The Princess of Thieves
by WastelandRose
Summary: After being rescued from Antarctica, Remy is catatonic in the medlab. What will it take to make him want to live again? AU like whoa and choc full of OCgoodness. My first XMen fanfic, so reviews are appreciated.
1. Part 1: His Burning Eye

Part 1 - His Burning Eye

That year, the year it all started, New York saw snow in the middle of summer. A chain of blizzards ripped through the state, one after another, smothering the landscape in bleak, glittering white. With every exhale, clouds of frozen breath congealed midair, stubbornly refusing to dissipate as they clung and climbed the falling, leaden snow. Inhaling was a far less placid action, oxygen absorption involving cutting gasps that left aching, unshakeable cold deep inside the chests of all unfortunate enough to depend on breathing for survival. Charcoal storm clouds hung low in the sky, wrapping around the earth like a scratchy woolen blanket; sunlight became a precious commodity. That year, the year it all started, New York's summer was not an environment that lent itself well towards fostering a desire to live.

Being invulnerable didn't mean escape from the cold. Being invulnerable meant not having to share the grounds of Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters in Westchester as an escape from the twisted tragedy inside the mansion. The walls of the building seemed to bow outwards from the sheer amount of hatred constantly oozing from the resounding majority of its inhabitants. The Wolverine could smell the hate; it was making him sick with rage. The Wolverine couldn't entirely leave the hate behind; it clung to his clothing, lingering despite being bombarded with flying razors of ice.

"Logan," She approached slowly, her voice holding all its usual softness, but shaking from the strain of anguish, frustration, and exhaustion. He knew those were the reasons because he felt them inside himself, too, felt them digging into his flesh and settling in. After all the misfortune leading up to that moment, a future without the hopelessness and anger seemed completely out of reach.

"'Ro," The man responded gruffly, continuing to take slow puffs of his cigar, loosing plumes of rich, dense smoke into the dusk. For a few moments, the pair retreated into silence, watching as a vague, sickly glow from behind the clouds descended below the horizon. It was probably the sun, but it had been so long since either had seen the bright star that they couldn't know for sure.

Shades of gray bled together, and then the world was black; a barrage of cold crystal shards continued to relentlessly assault them from out of the darkness. "How's Gumbo?" Logan finally grunted, breaking the stillness of their reverie.

"I am afraid there has been no change in his condition," Ororo replied softly, her white hair whipping backwards, leaving her dark face fully exposed to the elements she was wielding without mercy, "I have had no luck talking him out of his depression. He still will not speak or eat, and does nothing but stare at the ceiling."

It wasn't the answer either of them was hoping for, but it was the truth, the despicable truth and also the reason they had both sought solitude in the blizzard: Remy LeBeau was broken. A whole month had passed since he was recovered from Antarctica, after having been abandoned there, betrayed by his own teammates. For a whole month, the young Cajun had done nothing but shiver in silence. Those who loved him--they were few but loyal--were disturbed most by his complete lack of anger, of emotion entirely. The frostbite would eventually heal, as would the damage to his sensitive eyes and the deep, jagged gashes on both his wrists, but a fear hung heavy in the mutants' hearts that the young thief's vivacious and intelligent mind was injured beyond repair, that they'd been far too late to save their friend.

Logan wanted him to scream, and swear, and threaten to blow them all sky high; Ororo wanted him to rave, and cry, and let her nurse him back to the vibrant spirit he once was; Remy only laid in bed, near catatonic, with no outward signs of life beside the steady _beep... beep... beep..._ of the monitors hooked to his chest.

With a deep sigh, Logan tried to lighten the mood, a task not generally left up to the short-tempered Canadian, by requesting, "Can't ya do something about all this snow?"

"No," The weather witch responded, her voice a growl that would have been more fitting coming from the feral at her side, "Those responsible for my brother's condition shall freeze as he did. I only regret not being able to remove them from the safety of their beds and strand them with nothing but the clothes on their worthless backs."

The fire in her voice prompted Logan to finally send a sideways glance towards the woman, and he nearly smirked at the uncharacteristic fury written all over her proud, striking features. Only the reason behind the fury kept his amusement in check. "Down, 'Ro," He joked dryly, deadpan as he grasped his cigar firmly in the corner of his mouth, "Freeze the bastards all ya want, just do me a favor and keep the snow under six feet. I'm gonna do one last patrol of the grounds before I lock up, and wading through powder over my head'll be a real pain in the ass."

"I am sorry, my friend," She murmured quietly, looking towards the sky. After a moment of concentration, her dark eyes went completely white. The winds died. The steady fall of snow ceased only a few minutes later. When she turned her eyes back on the man beside her, they were normal once more.

Giving a gruff nod rather than a smile, Logan stated, "Thanks. Makes my job a hell of a lot easier. Now, get yourself back inside before you catch something."

"You are welcome, Logan," Ororo breathed, turning away from him and walking along the narrow shoveled path that lead away from the edge of the frozen pond and back to the mansion, "Do not be too long. I will be with Remy if you need me."

He nodded, and listened to the retreat of her light, graceful footsteps, tracking her movement until he was sure she was within the safe, albeit hostile mansion. Alone again, Logan continued to smoke in the darkness and ignore the nausea still churning inside his gut. One of the few things he knew for sure in life is that nothing can mask the stench of hatred.

Although he was by no accounts a religious man, the Wolverine couldn't help offering a silent prayer for the Cajun's recovery to whatever higher powers might be listening.

And then he set off to stalk the school's perimeter, with no idea that an answer was already waiting to be found.

xxXxx

Remy LeBeau couldn't figure out whether he was alive or dead. He should've been dead. He was stranded in Antarctica for nearly two months, and, in a delirious fit of cold, exhaustion, and hunger, slit his wrists to end his own suffering. Slowly, numb warmth had come over his body. The blinding, searing white of his surroundings faded to a peaceful black as he bled into the ice, and he thought it was all finally over.

But he opened his eyes to find that he was in a private room in the medlab of the X-Mansion. He was still unbearably cold, his whole body ached horrendously, and Dr. Hank McCoy was putting a Very Large Needle into his arm. The immediate thought that passed through the young Cajun's mind was _"_Merde_, I'm in hell. Shoulda known."_

However, he caught sight of Storm at his bedside. She had one of his hands in both of hers, softly stroking his knuckles as she smiled down at him. She had tears in her eyes, and whispered, "Welcome back, my brother." He couldn't really be in hell then. He loved Storm; she made him happy, and doesn't hell have some kind of rule against the presence of anything that makes its inhabitants happy?

He had to be dead though. He'd killed himself. Heaven was out of the question. As far as Remy was concerned, doctors were not allowed through the gates, and besides that, his powers were nearly nonexistent. He was weak to the point of being useless. Maybe it was purgatory? Ok, that made sense. So he just had to sit back and serve his sentence like _Tante_ always told him, _"Purgatory's where ya go to get cleansed and readied fo' Heaven, a place o' punishment fo' dose who depart dis life in God's grace, _mais_ not havin' fully paid de penance due fo' dere sins."_ If that was the case, he certainly had a long wait ahead of him, what with all the stealing, swearing, sex, and murder.

It was hard ignoring the fake Storm and all her pleas for him to speak, but he deemed it necessary. He thought it was best not to let himself ever believe that this place where he was to serve his punishment had somehow gone back to reality.

"Hello, Remy," Storm was back again, standing over him with that pained, loving smile that made his heart break, "How are you feeling?" He didn't answer. If he answered, that would mean he believed she was real, and she wasn't. She wasn't. He continued to stare straight up. His adoptive sister sighed, gently carding her slender fingers through his unwashed auburn hair. Her hands felt so warm, and good, and alive. He closed his eyes and tried to remember that hope was useless.

xxXxx

Trampling through snow up to his chest was not high on Logan's list of things he enjoyed. However, he was far too security conscious to skip off on his nightly perimeter check due to a little bad weather. Still, he was snarling quietly to himself as he waded his way up to the gate. Only one thing left: inspecting the locks and keypad on the outside. Then he could get back inside, get a beer, and maybe spend a little quality time trying to smack some sense into Gumbo.

With those pleasant thoughts to distract from his annoyance and anger, the Wolverine unlocked and opened the big metal gate. Fortunately, the snow on the other side was mostly plowed, and he didn't sink completely into it. He was free to do a quick examination of the security precautions and discover, yet again, that no one had attempted to sabotage them.

But a set of nearly covered tire tracks were pressed into the snow, marking where a vehicle had stopped near the wall, where people had gotten out and approached the gate for some unknown reason. The tracks were probably only a half hour or so old and they were not a set he recognized. The _snikt _of Adamantium claws cutting from Logan's knuckles seemed unusually loud in the peaceful, still night, but he hardly noticed, carefully sniffing the air for any signs of intruders.

He did smell something, but he wasn't at all sure what it was. The scent was... young... fresh... completely free from the hate he was expecting... bloody? It was also faint and... dying? The man swore under his breath, searching harder for the source. A little scrap of purple from underneath a snow bank to the right of the gate got his attention.

Instantly, he retracted his claws, and rushed straight for the spot of color. And then he was digging, cursing wildly as he struggled to find the poor person who had apparently gotten buried when the plow came by. Logan hoped it was just some stupid kid who'd been playing by the side of the road, not paying attention. He wasn't at all prepared to suddenly find himself holding a tiny blue-faced infant in his hands.

xxXxx

"Logan, microwave some bags of saline immediately! Jean, begin CPR! ORORO!" Remy mentally cursed as the big blue doctor stuck his furry, fanged head into the room. All that screaming was making the ache behind his eyes throb even more painfully. Then, of course, he remembered that this was supposed to be a punishment for all the bad things he'd done in life, and resigned himself to enduring the pain.

At his side, the dozing Storm was startled into full alertness, jumping to her feet and answering, "Hank? What is the matter?"

With a profoundly disturbed, harried frown, Dr. McCoy replied, "I need one of the electric blankets and heat lamps from Remy's room! Please bring them out right away!" His urgent and frightened demeanor was contagious, spreading to Ororo without delay as she complied with his request, and rushed out to see what was happening in the medlab proper.

Remy couldn't help but be intrigued himself. In all the time he'd been suspended in this limbo, nothing like what had just occurred had taken place. The break of routine was enough to make him curious enough to want to investigate, so he carefully sat up for the first time in a month. He brushed the wires off his chest, and winced queasily as he pulled the I.V. out of his arm. Free from monitors and fluid drips, the young Cajun shakily made his way towards the raucous of activity going on in the other room.

As soon as he got to the open door, his strength waned. He had to lean heavily on the frame to keep standing while trying to get his head to stop spinning and his knees to stop threatening to buckle. The fact that he was only wearing thin, blue hospital scrubs didn't help matters. Violent shivers were already overtaking his body, breathing was difficult with his pneumatic lungs, and the cold tile felt like it was burning the soles of his frostbitten feet. The bright light stung his eyes despite the black-out shades he wore.

Still, all these things didn't stop Remy from watching with quiet fascination as four X-Men ran circles around the room, horror written on all their faces. Jean Grey was openly weeping as she bent over a small lump of blue and purple fabric in the middle of one of the gurneys, and Logan looked more murderous than usual, quite near vomiting at the same time. The doctor had one of those Very Large Needles in his clawed hands, but it wasn't until he stuck the lump of fabric with it that Remy came to realize that it was not, in fact, a lump of fabric.

It was a baby.

Its skin was a blue he knew too well to be from expose to extreme cold. Patches of his own skin had turned the same shade after just his first few days in Antarctica, and had progressed quickly to necrotic black that still had yet to fully fade from the tips of his toes. The purple blanket wrapped around the small creature had obviously done just as poorly a job protecting its owner as his own clothing had done for him.

"I can't find a vein," Hank moaned heartbrokenly, breathing hard as he stepped back, a look of utter hopelessness and defeat marring his usually kind face, "Or a pulse." The room became very quiet, only the sounds of Jean's sobbing and continued attempts at CPR echoing off the institutional white of the walls.

Slowly, Ororo stepped forward and laid a hand on the redhead's arm, stating softly, "We can do no more. She is gone, child."

"No! No! No!" Jean responded, frantic in her efforts, "We can still save her! She's just a _baby!_ There has to be _something_ we can do!" Not even able to believe herself, the end of Jean's declaration turned to sobs of grief, and Ororo quickly pulled the redhead into a comforting embrace. Crying silently as well, Storm lead her teammate out of the room, letting the young woman bawl onto her shoulder. Logan left soon after, and, from the look on his face, both Hank and Remy assumed he was off to take out his overwhelming frustration and anger in the Danger Room.

The doctor was wiping tears out of his own eyes as he methodically shut down the monitors and other equipment he never gotten a chance to use, carefully covering the body of the infant with the scrap of purple fabric before leaving the room. He needed to inform Professor Xavier of his failure.

Remy suddenly found himself all alone. Still leaning against the doorframe, he didn't realize he was crying until the trails of salt on his cheeks began to cool and sting. He sniffed in confusion, bringing his hands up to feel the tears. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. He hadn't even done so when Rogue left him... This certainly was a very sadistic form of punishment. What exactly had he done to deserve to witness such an atrocity? He hadn't been that bad, had he?

And then he was taking cautious steps towards the covered body, for some reason intent on seeing it, needing to see it. His hands shook violently as he peeled back the blanket, and a choked sob left his throat.

It was a girl, a tiny, naked baby girl, limp and prone on the gurney. Her skin was blue and waxen, her chest not rising and falling like it should have been. The little body was still spattered in a thin film of blood and birth fluid. She couldn't have been more than a few hours old.

The soft wisp of black fuzz a top her head wasn't enough to cover the smooth crimson horns right jutting from below her hairline. Aside from the obvious mutation, she looked a lot like his little nephews just after they were born. He hadn't seen his family in years, and ached with the desire to just make sure that none of them had ended up like this.

Tenderly, he swaddled her in the blanket, like his sister-in-law, Mercy, had taught him soon after his first nephew, Nicolas, was born. That was already four or five years in the past, but the skill was still almost automatic. When the little bundle was made, he tucked it under his arm, humming a broken lullaby he remembered from his _Tante_ Mattie as he used a corner of the purple fabric to clean the infant's pretty face. She was so cold. He brushed his fingertips lightly through her hair, and promised repentance for all his sins if only that would save the girl.

He was startled when he noticed himself charging the blanket, even more so when he saw the baby's blue body charge as well. It was an odd time for his powers to manifest, especially after having been out of commission for so long. He wasn't supposed to be able to charge people, either. That couldn't be good. He really didn't want to blow the little creature up, so he concentrated as hard as he could on just letting the energy flow through him and into her and harmlessly back out. I felt odd, but somehow right, like he was sharing the good part of himself with a child who obviously needed it. She glowed like an angel.

And then it stopped. He took the charge away, finally noticing that he'd never stopped his soft lullaby. Even though he felt utterly drained from the effort, a wry smile spread over his face. Color came back into the girl's, and she fussed weakly in his arms, like she was waking up cranky from a nap. Gambit choked on his own surprise, sending himself into a slight coughing fit.

As soon as he managed to calm down, the baby in his arms suddenly opened her mouth and let out several loud, healthy wails, filling the silence of the cold room. Suspended somewhere between panic and glee, the Cajun rocked her, shushing softly even as he had to struggle to keep himself conscious and breathing.

The cries quieted much quicker than he expected, the girl snuggling and yawning and babbling like a normal baby should have been doing all along. Remy almost couldn't bear the elated smile on his face. It spread even wider when she opened her eyes.

"Ey, _petite_," He cooed, waving a finger at her sweet little face as she squirmed to free herself from the blanket. With minimal effort, she loosed her arms, and immediately grabbed onto the finger. Her fist was tiny in comparison, blunt fingernails made of the same dark red, shiny bone as the horns on her forehead.

"Name's Remy," The smiling thief introduced, "An' you have de most _belle_ eyes dis Cajun's ever seen."

xxXxx

Several hours later, Hank McCoy slowly dragged himself into his lab, having been given the immensely regrettable job of preparing the infant's body for burial. Everyone who heard the unfortunate story had insisted on a funeral, and the Professor was more than happy to oblige. The idea of a mutant baby being dumped like that had definitely hit very close to home for the inhabitants of the mansion. The other X-Men and assorted students were still tearfully debating what name should be put on the headstone. So far, she was just Baby X, and Beast had a suspicion that was what she would remain. Consensus wasn't something that came easy to his team.

When he walked through the door, the doctor stopped in his tracks and did an immediately double take. He could not be seeing what he thought he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes. He shook his head. He checked himself for an imaginary fever. The scene did not change.

Remy LeBeau was out of his room. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, on top of an electric blanket. He had another draped around his shoulders, and had set up four heat-lamps in a circle around himself. A tender smile graced his tired face as he spoke in soft gasps of French to a little bundle of purple cloth in his arms.

Beast thought the young man had cracked, that he was deluding himself into believing the infant was still alive, and the doctor immediately began coming up with ways to extract the body from Remy without traumatizing him anymore. He was obviously unwell.

Then the girl began to swing her arms, screeching happily before firmly grasping Remy's nose. "Ouch, _petite_," He chuckled breathlessly, struggling with the weak, ragged state of his lungs, "Remy don't think dat particular piece o' himself comes off, _oui_?" In response, the very much alive Baby X gurgled, and then began to scream.

"Y' hungry, _hun_?" The Cajun observed quietly, giving the girl a finger to suck on, "_Désolé, chéri_. Remy don' got no food for ya. Can't get up no more either. We just wait here til somebody finds us, _d'accord_?"

Beast was snapped out of his confusion by the obvious fact that the young Cajun needed some help. "Oh my stars and garters!" He cried, rushing forward to attend to both his patients, "Remy, you're up! What... how... baby..." For once, the brilliant physician was at a loss for words.

That made the thief smile. "Oh, _bonjour_, Hank," He laughed, having to pause and catch his breath before continuing, "Where ya been? Remy an' de _petite_ got stuck down here."

"I-I apologize," The doctor offered lamely, carefully assisting Remy in standing, guiding him to take a seat on one of the gurneys, "I... had no idea you were up."

"Think you could get a bottle for de _petite_?" Remy requested, acting like he hadn't heard a word said to him as he continued to play with the fidgeting girl in his arms, "She gettin' real cranky, and nobody likes a cranky b_ébé_."

Nodding without pause, Hank answered, "Of course, I will see to it immediately, but I should examine the infant first." Shrugging, Remy muttered unhappily, "If you need to. Jus' be careful wit her."

Again, the doctor nodded, and bent over the girl. His eyes went wide when he saw hers: dark, glowing rubies set in flawless onyxes. "How-" He gasped, unable to express that she hadn't had those when he checked her pupils a few hours ago. She'd had hazel eyes. They were dull and lifeless.

"Remy," Hank breathed in amazement, "She has... how did you do this? How did you resuscitate her? Change her eyes?"

The thief shrugged, auburn hair falling into his own dimming eyes as he explained casually, "Accidentally charged her, den took it back, and she started to cry. You gonna get dat bottle, _homme_, or do me an' de _petite_ have to start someting wit ya?"

"In a moment," He responded, still fixated on this odd turn of events as he gently took Baby X from the reluctant Cajun and put a stethoscope to her frail chest, "Please, explain to me _exactly_ what happened."

"Already told ya," Remy yawned, laying back on the gurney, curling himself into a ball underneath the blissful warmth of his electric blanket, "Charged de _petite_, uncharged de _petite_, de _petite _woke up. She ok, _non_?"

After a moment of silence, Hank replied, "Surprisingly, she seems to be in good health... how are you, Remy? You gave us quite a scare."

"Dis thief will live to steal again," The young man chuckled, on the brink of passing out, his eyes slowly falling shut behind black shades, "Take good care of de _petite_. Remy be tired."

"Of course," Dr. McCoy stated, watching quietly as his patient slipped off to sleep, looking peaceful for the first time since he was recovered from the barren planes of Antarctica. The whole situation fascinated Beast, and, after making sure Remy would be alright, he turned his attention to the miracle in his hairy blue arms.

"Hello there, little one," He greeted, holding the squirming child out in front of himself, smiling when she stared unflinchingly back at him, demonic eyes wide with wonder, tiny horns glinting in the fluorescent light. "Extraordinary," The doctor breathed, tucking her into the crook of his arm as he hurried upstairs to tell his team the very good news: there was no longer need for them to plan a funeral.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

my first XMen fanfic. please be gentle but reviews will be greatly appreciated.


	2. Part 2: What's in a Name?

Part 2 - What's in a Name?

"She's, like, _SO CUTE!_" Kitty Pryde gushed, hovering over the sleeping mutant infant in Jean Grey's arms. Very close to tears of joy, Jean agreed, "Ya, she really is. I-I can't believe she's alive."

"We would have our young Cajun friend to thank for that," Dr. Hank McCoy announced as he walked into the rec room, carrying the armful of supplies he fetched from his lab. He also went down there to check on the aforementioned Cajun, who was still passed out from exhaustion, with Storm keeping watch and lovingly petting his shaggy auburn hair.

At the mention of Gambit, however, the present X-Women, especially Rogue, became visibly tense, as well as angry. None had forgiven him for his involvement in the Morlock Massacre. Most wanted still wanted to see him dead. They certainly weren't going to cut him any slack just for saving a baby. Beast sighed in frustration, and returned to his lab to gather more supplies for setting the child up in a room.

Almost as soon as the doctor left, a loud _BAMF_ was quickly followed up by "_Wo ist das Baby? Ich will das Baby halten!_" (Where is the baby? I want to hold the baby!)

Everyone present turned to stare blankly at the fuzzy blue elf bouncing happily in the center of the room. His yellow eyes were fully of delight, and his pointed canines were shining from inside a wide smile. The strange looks he was getting didn't even faze the Amazing Nightcrawler as he suddenly caught sight of the bundle in Jean's arms.

With another _BAMF_ he was right in front of the redhead, hopping from foot to two-toed foot as he pleaded, "Can I hold zee baby? _Bitte! Bitte! Bitte!_" (Please! Please! Please!)

"Chill, Kurt," Kitty soothed, giggling at the man's behavior, "She's sleeping, so you can only hold her if you promise to, like, calm down."

"_Ja!_ Promise!" He replied, holding out his three-digited hands expectantly. Jean seemed reluctant to give the little girl up, but still carefully laid her in Kurt's waiting arms.

He immediately _BAMF_ed out of sight. After a brief moment of shock, all the women began screaming for him to get his furry blue ass back there, tearing the mansion apart in search of him. The elf was AWOL for exactly ten minutes, and then reappeared in the kitchen, accompanied by a noxious cloud of sulfurous brimstone and an absolutely inconsolable infant screaming bloody murder in his arms.

"KURT WAGNER!" Rogue, first to notice his less than triumphant return, shouted as she stomped directly towards her brother, "What do yah think you're doin, kidnappin' a little baby lahke that? Where'd yah take her?" The untouchable's eyes were blazing with anger, her gloved fists balled tightly at her sides.

"Sorry!" He offered fearfully, holding the wailing child out in front of himself like a shield. Seeing as how Rogue didn't punch him in the head right away, the strategy was a successful one, allowing him a few moments to explain, "I had to take her to zee church for an emergency baptism!"

"Emergency bap..." The woman gaped, caught in the midst of a momentary loss for words, which didn't last very long, "What in the hell for?" Kurt gave her a look of confusion, announcing, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "To save her little soul."

With an exasperated groan, Rogue seized the screaming infant from her brother, tucking it under her completely covered arm as she scolded, "We were worried sick, Kurt! Yah could've _asked!_" In reply, he pouted, "I am sorry, _Meine Schwester_. I vas zinking only of zee little baby. She eez no longer in danger of an eternity in Limbo."

Rogue sighed heavily, recognizing Kurt's good intentions, even if his methods were... odd. She didn't have a chance to respond though, because Kitty came barreling into the room, squealed, and then seized Baby X from her arms. "Like, there you are, Tiffany!" She cooed, waving the obviously unhappy infant in the air above her head, "I know your big bad Uncle Kurt, like, _totally_ baby-napped you, but don't cry. Auntie Kitty is here now, and she's gonna protect you from the crazy blue elf, even if she has to leave him phased halfway through a wall."

The valley girl glared at Kurt, silently warning that she was dead serious. However, he just grinned, teasing, "You forget, _Fräulein_ Kitty, I can do zees."

_BAMF BAMF BAMF_ echoed in rapid succession throughout the large room, a blue blur popping from the counter to the fridge to the table to the door back to the counter. Kurt wore a proud grin. The baby, frightened by the noise, screamed louder.

Kitty continued to scowl, clutching Baby X to her chest as she growled, "Then I guess I'll have to just, like, use my Nair instead. I bet you won't be nearly this cocky when you're completely bald!" Yellow eyes went wide, and, with an audible gulp, Kurt backed slowly away. He then _BAMF_ed for all he was worth.

"Nahce one, Kit. Ah couldn't have done it better mahself," Rogue commented, attempting to entertain the screaming infant by jingling a set of keys in front of her face. It only made the small creature's wailing ten times more severe. Wincing, the goth took a step back, observing stoically, "Ah think she's upset cuz yah called her _Tiffany_."

"Like, what's wrong with Tiffany?" Her friend asked as she tried to rock the baby mutant into silence, "I think it's a beautiful and _totally_ classy name!"

With an eye roll, Rogue responded, "She's got _horns_. Ah don't think Tiffany really suits her."

"I like zee name Lily!" Kurt contributed, his suggestion muffled by the three-room buffer he'd put between himself and the deranged valley girl.

Outraged, Rogue announced, "No way! We should call her Thorn! That would fit great, what with the horns and all!"

"Are we trying to name the X-Baby again? I wanna play!" Bobby announced as he bounced excitedly into the room, immediately snatching the little girl from Kitty's grasp. He held the wailing monster at arms length, then declared, "I'm gonna go with Lucky, cuz she's super lucky to be alive."

"Bobby Drake!" Kitty shrieked indignantly, attempting to wrestle Baby X from the obviously unbalanced Iceman, "That is a _dog's_ _name!_ We are _not_ naming her a _dog's name!_ Like, give her back!"

Jean, Scott, and Jubilee chose that moment to show up, and all hell broke loose as every X-man or -woman present vehemently championed his or her opinion on the naming of Baby X, whose screaming and crying was completely ignored. It wasn't until ten minutes later, when Logan stalked angrily into the room, that the arguing finally died into a frightened near-silence.

He snarled deeply, his dark gaze sweeping over the inhabitants of the room like he wanted to kill them all before finally settling on the distressed infant trying to fight its way out of Kitty's grasp. Without a word, he snatched the screaming pink monster (the baby, not the valley girl), turned, and stomped out.

"Like, what's his problem?" Kitty mused perkily, earning nothing but a shrug from everyone except Jean. "The Professor sent him out to track down whoever dumped little Brianna," The telepath reported sadly, "My guess is that he found them."

xxXxx

"Where's the off button on you, Tiny?" Logan grunted, trying to get the baby to stop screaming and squirming in his arms. The red-faced girl only wailed louder, balled fists swinging and little feet kicking wildly. He groaned, and stalked just a little bit faster towards Professor X's office.

"Chuck," He grunted desperately as he barged in without knocking, finding the Professor seated at his desk, "None of those kids is fit to baby-sit. I don't know what the hell we're gonna do with it."

The telepath looks unexpectedly surprised at the situation that had just landed in his lap, especially after sensing from Logan that the students were slightly neglectful towards the baby. He couldn't sense any distress from her, nor does he now despite being in the same room with the child.

"Curious," The man mumbles, taking the girl from Wolverine. Trying his hand at calming her down and failing just as miserably as everyone else, Xavier inquires, "I take it you located the people who dumped our newest member?"

Logan gives an irritated grunt, pulling a bunch of papers out of the inside lining of his leather jacket, unfolding them as he snarls over the infant's cries, "Yup. And you're gonna _love_ this one." Holding the packet in his hands, he reads the names once more before handing it across, "The _Reverend_ and Mrs. McMorrison claimed to have been praying for kids for the last ten years, and were horrified when she gave birth to the _demon_ at home yesterday. The horns cut the woman up so badly that she'll never be able to have another kid, and, instead of being thankful for the one they got, they drove out together and dumped her in front of the school. They told their church congregation it was stillborn. The whole house was crawling with people _comforting_ them. It made me sick. They were so worried about any embarrassment I might cause that they signed her over with very little... coercion."

"Everyone's out to spoil your fun, aren't they, Logan?" The Professor teased, smirking as he bounced the shrieking girl in his arms. At a growl from the Wolverine, Xavier cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Well, thank you. So they did sign the papers then? She is legally my ward?"

"Ya," Logan responded, throwing himself down into one of the empty chairs, "It's all legal. They surrendered parental rights and put her in your care indefinitely."

Nodding the Professor then asked, "And did the McMorrison's happen to name their daughter before they dumped her?"

"Sort of," The gruff Canadian mutters, "The woman kept crying and carrying on, saying how her little girl was supposed to be named Mary Rachel, but now that the _demon_ had taken hold of her, she would have to have a name like Lilith, or Jezebel, or Salome, or Delilah. She just kept listing off all these evil biblical characters until I finally told her to shut her big fat mouth. I'm sorry, Chuck, but I have no patience for people like her."

With a noncommittal nod, the Professor states, "It's alright, Logan. I understand your frustration... Well, I suppose this means we still don't have a name for the child. None of the suggested ones seems exactly... suitable."

The girl was still screaming and crying and struggling in Xavier's arms, her demonic little face flushed red. However, despite her obvious unhappiness, he still couldn't sense her with his powers. Babys' minds don't hold much, but he could at least see into most of them, feel when they're happy, sad, hungry, scared, tired. This child though, her mind was encased in concrete. He hadn't come across anyone with shields like hers since he met Remy LeBeau...

_"Strange..."_ He thought to himself, making some connections between her shields and eyes, and Gambit's actions in saving her life. _"Perhaps a power transfer occurred... or a life-force sharing..."_

"Remy! Please stop! You are going to injure yourself further!"

"Yes, I must insist that you go back to bed right this instant!"

"_Non!_ Where is she?"

A few moments later, the door of the office was thrown open to reveal a very displeased, sickly Cajun. Behind him, Ororo and Hank were sending pleading looks at the Professor, trying to elicit his help in coaxing Remy back into the medlab to rest. He'd been in a frenzy ever since he woke up, struggling upstairs to search frantically for the baby girl.

He saw her crying in Xavier's arms, and immediately snarled, crossing the room in only a few strides before snatching her away from the telepath. Carefully, he cradled the girl against his thin chest, murmuring soothing nonsense in French as he let his anger and fear melt away. She made him feel safe, gave him a purpose, a path to redemption. If he could protect her from being knocked around by life the way he had, then he had a reason to go on.

And the girl did seem to feel safe with Remy, her cries slowly quieting as she cuddled into his warmth, grabbing handfuls of his hospital scrubs and yawning cutely. Remy couldn't help the small smile that came across his face as he watched the horned infant fall asleep. She was his now. He would keep her safe, and God help anyone who tried to stop him.

"Remy," The Professor stated gently, not even getting the Cajun to look at him, "Remy, please, why don't you take a seat and rest for a few moments. We should talk."

"_Non_," He insisted breathlessly, still struggling with his weak lungs as he continued, "Dey's nothing left for Remy to say to you people... Stormy, I wanna go back to de medlab."

Despite the fact that no one thought they would ever hear Gambit utter that phrase, Ororo nodded, laying a guiding hand on his shoulder as she agreed, "Yes, of course. Let us go."

Once they left the room, Remy still carrying the calmed child tight against his chest, Xavier leaned back into his wheelchair and sighed. Tenting his slim fingers against his lips, the telepath shared significant looks with Wolverine and Beast before stating, "I sense nothing from our young Cajun, but I doubt there is any hope of ever regaining his trust."

"Can't blame him," Logan growled quietly, his eyes still on the empty doorframe.

xxXxx

The walk back to the medlab was slow for more than one reason. Breathing was still very difficult for Remy, but that was not purely his motivation for the leisurely pace. He already had a plan in mind, one that would free him and the girl from the clutches of the X-Men, hopefully forever.

"Stormy," He rasped, trying to sound as pathetic as possible--though it didn't take much effort--as he stopped to lean against the wall right beside a large framed landscape, "I need dat... dat... air... breathe... t'ing..."

"Oxygen mask?" The white-haired woman offered as she helped him sit down on the hallway floor, "You are having trouble breathing?" At a weak nod from Remy as he continued to gasp and wheeze, Storm ran for the medlab, announcing, "Do not fear. I will bring the oxygen mask."

As soon as she was gone, Remy dropped the act. Well, mostly. His breathing still sucked, but he could easily get to his feet, balancing the baby in the crook of one arm as he pried up the landscape from the wall. After pawing for a moment, he was able to find the small prepaid cell phone he taped to the back of it a few years ago. Call him paranoid, but Gambit had lots of emergency supplies hidden throughout the mansion. He liked knowing that they were there if he ever needed them.

Since he turned out to actually end up needing them, perhaps the practice wasn't so misguided.

He had just enough time to hide the phone in the baby's blanket and reassume his seat on the floor before Storm came rushing back with a small green oxygen bottle and clear plastic mask. The young Cajun allowed his friend to fuss over him because, if all went according to plan, he would probably never see her again...

xxXxx

Remy had to wait until nearly three in the morning before he was finally left alone. Hank and Ororo were worried about him, despite the fact that he adamantly insisted he was fine, and 'kept him company' until they both couldn't keep their eyes open any longer.

Once they were gone, the plan went into action.

After tucking his dozing baby into the crook of his arm, he fished the hidden cell phone out from under his pillow and dialed a number he'd known by heart since long before his earliest memory.

The other end rang and rang and rang, so many times that Remy's heart was in his throat as he silently prayed for an answer. Finally, the other end clicked and he heard an exhausted, blessedly familiar voice grunt, "_Jean-Luc_._ Dis better be good_."

Suddenly finding himself near tears, Remy rasped, "Papa..."

Silence on the other end, and then a harsh, almost heartbroken demand of, "_Who is dis?_"

"Papa," The young Cajun gasped, "Papa, it's Remy."

"_Remy's dead_," The man on the other end snarled sadly, "_And ya ain't funny_, homme. _I should have ya killed for dis_."

Unable to keep the smirk out of his voice, Gambit argued, "Nah, you love dis Cajun too much to kill him. And it'd be awful hard for Remy to be talkin' to his _père_ if he was dead, don't you tink?"

Again, silence met him from the other end, long, charged silence before Jean-Luc cautiously ordered, "_If you're Remy, den prove it_._ Tell me someting only he would know_."

Chuckling, the auburn-haired mutant leaned back into his hospital bed and carefully arranged the sleeping baby girl to lie on his chest. "How about de time when I was ten and you caught me hotwiring Henri's car?" He supplied helpfully, "You were so proud I figured out how to do it all on my own dat you didn't even punish me."

Tenderly stroking the infant's soft black hair, he heard one more silence and then, "_Remy!_ Mon dieu! _We thought you was_... _they told us_..._ where are ya? I'm comin' to get ya right this second! You have any idea what ya put this family through, boy?_"

"Papa," He finally laughed, feeling unbelievably good just from the sound of his father's worrying and protectiveness, and even the scolding, "Calm down. Dat's why I called. De situation got a little complicated, an' I need your help..."

"_Anyt'ing_," Jean-Luc instantly replied, "_I don't care about the Guild or the exile_._ I just want my _fils _home_._ It's been far too quiet 'round here lately_."

Remy smiled down at his girl--his daughter, he decided--just in time for her to open her mouth and let out a loud, healthy wail. Chuckling lightly, the Cajun stated, "I'm glad you feel dat way, Papa..."

xxXxx

In the morning, against her will, Rogue was coerced into delivering a tray of food and baby bottles to the infirmary. If Hank could have gotten anyone else to do it, he definitely would have. Putting the pair within a hundred feet of each other was just asking for trouble, but he had no choice. Everyone else had gone out on an emergency call just an hour earlier and he was on his way out the door as well.

So Rogue carried the tray to the medlab, grumbling all the while, and when she stepped inside she was met with a rather curious sight.

Remy was on his back on one of the gurneys towards the middle of the room, a wide smile gracing his hollow, emaciated, still handome features as he held the giggling baby girl over his head. He was making faces at the dark-haired child, the both of them laughing as she kicked her little feet and the smooth red horns on her forehead shined in the soft fluorescent light.

It was cute.

And sickening.

"The Professor must be real desperate for a babysitter if he's letting yah anywhere near Thorn," Rogue bit scathingly, slamming the tray down onto a table. Not startled at all, Gambit hardly even acknowledged the untouchable's presence. He kept laughing and playing, teasing, "Who is dis _Thorn_? Don't know anyone with dat name, do we, _petite_?"

"Knock it off," Rogue growled, fists balled at her sides, "Yah don't just get to do what yah did and then claim some innocent child as your own!"

Determined not to waist anymore of his life on the fiery Southerner, Remy shrugged and brightly responded, "Don't care much for your opinion anymore."

With an annoyed huff, Rogue blew streaked white bangs out of her green eyes, snapping, "Fahne. I'll be back in a half hour. Hank gave orders for you and the baby to nap after lunch." The young woman turned on her heel and stomped from the room, completely unaware that it would be the last time she'd see Remy and the girl for a very long time.

xxXxx

"She's gone," Remy muttered when he was sensed Rogue was out of earshot. Not halting playtime, the Cajun glanced up through the blackout shades that shielded his onyx eyes at a covered AC vent in the ceiling above his head, his smirk widening when a familiar pair of brown eyes peered back through the slats.

"How da hell do you do dat, _petite frère_?" Henri LeBeau's chuckle echoed as its owner carefully removed the grate and gracefully vaulted to the medlab floor. He didn't wait for an answer, immediately grabbing his frail brother into a desperate hug. He knew Remy would probably be in bad shape, but nothing prepared the man to see his vivacious and energetic little brother so thin and sick. He was filled with rage at those responsible and wanted nothing more than to kill them all.

"You kiddin, Henri?" Remy joked, shutting both his eyes and letting out a tired, relieved breath as he hugged his brother right back, "I sensed you from miles away. You ain't never been one for stealth." His shields were stronger then than they'd ever been before, but that just kept people out of his mind. Emotions were another story entirely. Remy could still feel the anger coming off of Henri and he fought back a spell of nausea. He could've let go and possibly felt better, but he just didn't want to, not after almost losing his brother.

"Brat," The elder LeBeau child teased, near tears and, despite everything, just so fucking happy, "_Mon dieu_. It really is you."

Smiling broadly and basking in the elated emotions he could feel steadily replacing all the anger, Remy rasped, "Da one and only."

"You find him yet?" A new voice called, followed very closely after by a head of shaggy, red-blonde hair poking upside down from the vent. The blue eyes of Francis "Lapin" Benoit went wide as he set his sights on the hugging brothers and a giant smile spread across his small impish face. He was gone a moment later, but his bubbly voice echoed throughout the room, calling elatedly, "Ey! Tweedles! Over here!"

After hearing some scrapping and banging--not to mention _a lot_ of bickering and swearing--from inside the thin ceiling tiles, Remy watched as three bodies dropped to the floor beside the gurney on which he was still seated. Lapin immediately grabbed him into an affectionate hug, leaving him to stare at the identical, almost unfamiliar pair of teenagers standing in the middle of the room. "Damn," The mutant thief muttered, surveying his young cousins in amazement, "You two got big." Last time he saw the Benoit twins, they were around thirteen and tiny, definitely not the duo of behemoths before him.

The two boys grinned, flicking dark hair out of their sets of deep green eyes with a pair of perfectly timed movements. Muscular and broad-shouldered, the sixteen-year-old twins were clad all in black and already taller than their older brother. And Remy already knew they would never let Lapin forget it, either.

"Emile, Theo," Remy greeted, nodding to each while a smile still dominated his ragged features, "How ya been?" The one on the left, Theo, smiled and shifted nervously on the balls of his feet as he answered politely, "_Bon_, Cousin Remy. Yourself?"

Emile gave his twin a hard elbow in the gut, mocking, "Ain't it obvious, idiot? We're here rescuin 'im from de clutches of a bunch of evil assholes and he can't hardly breathe!" With a pout, Theo punched his brother back, crossly arguing, "Well, I thought he might be excited about getting to go home and have _Tante_ cook for him!" Remy smirked. Theo had been thinking with his stomach since long before he was born, and it was nice to know that some things never changed.

Rolling his eyes, Lapin turned to Henri and, annoyed, asked, "Why did we bring dem again?" Smirking and still not letting go of Remy, Henri responded, "So we didn't have to drag de bodies ourselves. Quit whining, I still ain't been introduced to my niece yet."

"Oh ya! Where is de little hellion?" Lapin chirped, his long limbs twitching excitedly as he bounced around to stand in front of the LeBeau brothers. Remy smiled, remembering exactly how his cousin had earned his nickname within seconds of witnessing his barely-contained, unconscious speed.

But he didn't have much time to dwell on that because his brother and cousins were looking expectantly from him to the squirming baby girl in his arms. "Dis," He stated, proudly holding the infant out for inspection by her new family, "Is Juliette Renée LeBeau. Ain't she _belle_?"

"Sure is," Emile agreed, reaching out to playfully ruffle the wisps of black hair on her little head and smiling when she tracked him with her shining ruby-onyx eyes, "You got a little heartbreaker on your hands, Cousin Remy."

"Lemme hold her," Henri requested, grinning when an uneasy expression came across his brother's face. "What, afraid I'll drop ya b_ébé_?" He teased, "Got three of my own, Remy, and plenty of experience."

With a low whistle, Remy replied, "Three? _Merde_. Last time I heard it was only two. I have been gone a long time..." He got lost in a moment of reflection, but finally did come back to earth, and when he did he carefully handed little Juliette over to his brother. The tall brunette cuddled her close, cooing and making faces as he introduced, "_Bonjour_, _bien-aime_. I'm your _Oncle_ Henri." (Hello, sweetheart.)

"What're their names?" Remy questioned softly, bitter-sweet. "Huh?" Henri replied, not bothering to look up from the pretty little girl, tickling her stomach and smiling even more brightly when she laughed and squirmed in his arms. Chuckling, Remy clarified, "My nephews?"

"Oh," His brother laughed, "Well, you know already know Nicolas and Simon, they're five and four now. Anatole is the youngest. He's two. And Lapin just had one a few months ago."

"You're kiddin me," Remy gaped, staring at his cousin in awe. He never figured the fidgety, flighty redhead as the family type. He hardly believed it when he heard Lapin had gotten married three years ago, to a lovely woman named Lucille, and finding out he had a kid definitely short-circuited quite a few brain cells.

Lapin grinned, his thin chest swelling with pride as he answered, "'Fraid not. It's like you always feared. I have propagated. His name's Christien, but his _maman's_ been callin him _Élan _since he was born. Weighed twelve fucken pounds." (Moose)

Laughing and trying to ignore the pain it caused him, Remy teased, "You mean he didn't come out scrawny as hell and already running his mouth off? Must not be yours den." Scowling, Lapin reached out and playfully punched his auburn-haired cousin in the shoulder.

Remy winced, sucking a sharp breath through clenched teeth and shutting his eyes to block out the pain from the blow. Almost immediately, the room was silent aside from Juliette's happy little gurgles. "Aw, hell, Remy," Lapin mumbled, sheepish and guilty and filled with rage at the people who had done this to the man he had always considered his brother and best friend, "_ Désolé_. I forgot-"

"It's alright," Remy sighed, dizzy and tired and nauseas and cold and anxious to leave, "I'll be alright." After a few moments, he managed to open his eyes and didn't like the sad stares he was receiving from his family. "What kind of rescue mission is dis?" The young man joked weakly, "All a yal standing around yakking? Thought ya were trained better."

Lapin rolled his eyes, complaining, "Always telling us how to do our damn jobs..." Pushing shaggy red-blonde hair off his forehead, he motioned Emile and Theo back to the open AC vent and ordered, "Tweedles, you got work to do." Smirking sarcastically, the twins answered with identical, perfectly timed salutes and a chorus of, "Yes, little brother. Right away, little brother." The teens moved towards the vent, Theo easily reaching up and struggling to wrestle down an awkward black duffle bag as Emile tried to help but mostly just ran his mouth off and got in the way.

"Henri, you'd better remind me real quick that I'm not allowed to kill them," Lapin grumbled as he glowered at their backs. He was disappointed when Henri laughed, "You're not allowed to kill the twins. Y' _père_ would be mad."

"Damn," Lapin cursed, frowning. The frown quickly disappeared, however, when his eyes fell on Juliette. "Hey, I want a turn," He demanded, holding his arms out expectantly. At a permissive nod from Remy, Henri carefully handed her over.

Lapin bounced the newborn, smiling at her elated screech as he remarked, "Aw, she's sweet. Élan's gonna love getting a playmate. Hey, Remy, bet they'll end up like you and me, _hun_?" A nostalgic smile coming across his face, the mutant laughed, "Ya, but hopefully without as many explosions and head injuries." Lapin chuckled, gravely agreeing, "_Oui_, I'd prefer _mon fils_ to have eyebrows and normal CAT scans during his childhood... I sure as hell didn't..."

"Ok, we're all set up," Emile announced, not seeing Theo rolls his eyes behind his back as he grumbled, "You mean _I'm_ all set up." A full on pout settling over his handsome features, Emile sounded hurt as he argued, "I helped." Theo glared.

Remy smiled at his cousins before examining the large black duffle they'd laid out on the floor. He knew exactly what was inside. It was his plan, after all. "Great," He stated, pushing himself to his feet. He wobbled and almost fell, but Henri caught him with a steadying on the mutant's back. Remy smiled his thanks before taking Juliette from Lapin and continuing, "Let's get going then... I'll, uh, need some help into de vent."

xxXxx

Rogue was swearing under her breath as she stomped back to the medlab, pissed off beyond belief that she'd gotten stuck babysitting the damn Cajun. She wanted nothing to do with that murdering bastard and was annoyed that the Professor was still keeping her off missions. It wasn't like she was the only one responsible for leaving Gambit in Antarctica. Why did she deserve to be punished the worst? Especially when Gambit had had it coming?

She also didn't like that he was allowed to be around the baby. The girl was sweet and innocent, and the damn Cajun would just corrupt her. The untouchable was planning on taking her away as soon as Gambit fell asleep.

Her hand had barely touched the door to the medlab when _BOOM_ a deafening explosion suddenly ripped it off its hinges. Flying backwards as the thick metal door collided with her petite but indestructible frame, Rogue didn't even hear herself scream.

She landed hard, the door crushing and trapping her painfully at the end of the long hallway. Her ears were ringing and her whole body hurt, but she gradually came to realize that an inferno was racing towards her, flames leaping high and consuming everything in their path. The smoke choked her, made her unable to breathe so quickly that she didn't even realize why she was coughing and why her head was spinning.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, just as she was overcome with the impossibly thick smoke, Rogue had some notion that she needed to save Gambit and the baby.

She screamed for Remy.

And then everything went black.

xxXxx

The property damage was immense. Medlab had to be completely gutted and rebuilt, as did three other levels of the mansion's underground. It was only by sheer luck that the fire didn't reach the large quantity of rocket fuel stored in the hangar before the X-Men arrived on the scene.

Bobby found Rogue still trapped under the heavy door, unconscious but alive, and he pulled her to safety.

After the fire was put out, Logan found a pair of scorched bodies in the middle of the charred lab, a man protectively clutching a baby girl to his chest. Both were burned entirely beyond recognition, even with DNA or dental records, not that they bothered with either because they were sure of the identities of the corpses.

Rogue survived, though she was touch-and-go for a few days.

She had no idea what happened.

Two main theories circulated through the school:

One was that Remy had finally lost it and purposely blew up the lab, igniting oxygen tanks and other assorted chemicals with his powers. He killed himself and took the helpless infant with him. He had probably been out get them all. Wasn't it lucky they'd been called away on that false alarm and foiled his plot?

Two was that Remy had suffered too much and lost control of his power. His death was accidental and the fact that the baby girl he loved so much got caught in the crossfire just made the whole event that much more devastating. Wasn't it tragic that they'd pulled the pair back from the brink of death just to have both ripped away in such a senseless instant?

Either way, the Professor had a beautiful magnolia tree planted on the grounds. He had Remy Etienne LeBeau and the nameless baby girl buried side-by-side beneath it, an unmarked, weeping granite angel placed between their graves. He held a memorial service. It was touching. Logan stiffly comforted Ororo while she mourned for her lost brother.

And then they all went on living without the Ragin' Cajun.

But, despite everything, Rogue could still be found some nights beneath the magnolia, her head in her gloved hands as she wept over the grave of the only man she had ever loved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

aw, sniffle-worthy. Hope you enjoyed and please review!


	3. Part 3: Misshapen Chaos

Part 3 - Mis-shapen Chaos of Well-Seeming Forms

"Remy, _mon ange_, you take yo' pills dis morning?"

"_Oui_, _Tante_, Remy took his pills."

"And you do yo' breathing treatment?"

"_Oui_, _Tante_, Remy did dat, too."

"What about yo' physical therapy exercises?"

"_Oui_, _Tante_. Got the sore fingers to prove it."

"Brush yo' teeth?"

"Aw, come on, _Tante_, Remy just wants some breakfast..."

Smirking as he listened to the exchange going on in his kitchen, Jean-Luc LeBeau yet again found himself deeply thankful for whatever force was responsible for bringing his youngest son back to him. It had been less than a week since he received the mutant's phone call for help in the middle of the night, since he sent Henri, Lapin, and the twins to help the young Prince of Thieves fake his own death, since Remy walked through the door, sick and frail but blessedly alive.

Remy was still sick and frail, but he'd been getting the best medical treatment available and was expected to mostly recover. He would probably always have asthma, and nerve damage, and painfully sensitive eyes, but those things seemed so small when compared to the prospect of never seeing his son again.

His little granddaughter fussed in his arms, and the King of Thieves was grateful for all his family had been blessed with.

"Remy," He scolded brightly, immediately going for the coffeemaker, "Mind your _Tante_." The auburn-haired thief sulked at the far end of the bar-style marble counter that ran through the middle of the kitchen. "I was, Papa," He pouted, fiddling with the thick black sunglasses perched on his still hollow face, "She's bein' mean to me again."

"Oh, you hush, chile!" The petite, plump black woman growled good-naturedly, whacking him on the behind with a spatula, "You know I ain't ever been mean to you one second of yo' life! I only want _mon ange_ to heal up right!"

"Well, smackin me ain't gonna do it," Remy whined, jumping up from his seat and making a big dramatic show of rubbing the sore spot on his butt. He forgot all about his theatrics, however, when he saw his sweet little Juliette. "Ey, _petite_," The thief greeted happily, scooping his baby girl up from his father's arms, "Your _grand-père_ been bothering you again?"

Jean-Luc snorted, settling himself at the bar with a large mug of coffee as he joked, "Always takin' her side. I'll have ya know de little hellion was de one to wake me up. And I ain't cleaning de full diaper she threw across your room."

Wrinkling his nose, Remy lightly scolded, "Again, _mon coeur_? Sheesh. You got an arm on ya." His face suddenly blanched, and then he looked up at his _Tante_ to seriously ask, "Should I be worried about her fondness for taking off her pants? Is dat gonna translate to trouble when she gets older? I don' wanna have to kill any boys, but I will."

"Relax," Mattie laughed, shaking her head as she wiped her wet hands on the dirty apron tied around her middle, "I'm sho de _petite_ will grow out of it. You did... mostly..." Not really appreciating the joke, Remy frowned and turned back to his daughter, dramatically begging, "You wouldn't do dat to me, would you, _ange_?"

"I hope de little one gives you just as much trouble and twice as many gray hairs as you gave me," Jean-Luc proclaimed, still sipping his coffee. With a smirk and shrug, he added, "Only fair."

"Wasn't dat bad," Remy teased, absentmindedly combing the unruly wisps of black hair on his onyx-eyed daughter's horned head. "'Sides," He added with a playful grin, "You woulda been bored otherwise. Remy was just tryin to keep things interesting for ya."

Jean-Luc choked laughing into his mug. Deciding that he'd never win an argument stemming from the current conversation, he casually changed the subject. "Mercy and Lucille are bringing the boys by later," The old man announced, yawning as he scratched his closely-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair, "Nico's been asking about his new cousin everyday, and I figured you'd be up to seeing them. You been doing much better."

Smiling gently, Remy agreed, "Feel much better. It's good to be home."

xxXxx

"Do I get to see my cousin Juliette today?" Five-year-old Nicolas LeBeau asked excitedly, fidgeting as his father attempted to wrangle him into a very small pair of red tennis shoes.

"_Oui_," Henri laughed, trapping the boy's legs in the crook of his arm to keep them still, "Y' _maman_ is taking you over just as soon as I can get you and your brothers dressed."

"Is my cousin Juliette little?" Nicolas inquired curiously, barely paying attention to the fact that he was being clothed, "Ani was little when he was a baby, but Christien isn't."

"Bigger den Ani was," Henri answered quietly, distracted for a few moments by memories of the frightening premature birth of his youngest son. Physically shaking himself from those thoughts a few moments later, he continued, "But she ain't quite as big as de _Élan_. Dat boy is unnatural..." (Moose)

Nico giggled, finally holding up his feet to inspect the job his father did on his shoes. The child gave a satisfied nod, going back to happily bouncing his small legs and fidgeting on the low wooden bench in the entryway of his large home. Watching his father pick up dark-haired little Ani from where he was sucking his thumb on the floor, Nicolas chirped, "Is my cousin Juliette pretty?"

"She's _belle_," Henri proclaimed, kissing Anatole on the forehead as he arranged him on the bench next to his big brother. The boy had always been small for his age, with a cute freckled nose and wide, expressive green eyes. Clutching tightly to the blue knitted blanket Tante made for him when he was born, Ani was completely still and silent as his daddy laced and tied his tiny blue shoes.

"Is she like Uncle Remy?" Nico pressed brightly, rocking back and forth, keeping an eye out for his other little brother and his _maman_.

"_Oui_," Henri stated, finishing Ani's shoes and glancing around for his middle son, "She's a mutant, too. People might be mean to her for dat. Can I trust you to protect your little cousin as good as you protect your little brothers?"

Grinning proudly, Nico whipped rich brown fringe out of his blue-eyed mini-Henri face as he sincerely agreed, "_Oui_, I can do dat. Are we gonna see my cousin Juliette now?"

"Soon as I find Simon..." Henri replied, distractedly crawling across the white-tiled floor in search of the runaway blonde. He checked under all the furniture in the room, only finally getting frustrated when he heard Nico and Ani start to giggle at him. "Ok," The tall brunette conceded, giving his two sons a pleading look, "Where is he?"

Laughing around the thumb still jammed in his little mouth, Anatole sheepishly pointed up at the top of a high antique coat rack beside the front door. There amidst all the hanging jackets and scarves, was skinny little Simon Lebeau, a halo of frizzy blonde curls surrounding his deceivingly angelic face.

"_Mon dieu_!!" Henri gasped, immediately seizing the boy by his waist and plucking him down, "How you get up dere, _mon fils_?"

"Climbed," The boy pouted, upset to be taken from his hard-won perch, squirming to be put down.

"Climbed?" Henri gaped, blinking curiously at the height of the seemingly insurmountable coat rack. "No climbing, _petite_," He scolded finally, sitting the four-year-old on the bench beside Anatole and frowning when the smaller boy shrank away in fear. "And no hitting Ani either," The man sternly warned as he dealt with Simon's shoes, "Ain't his fault climbing around like a crazy little monkey is dangerous for ya... hey, what you got dere?"

"Nothin," Simon answered, closing his hand tighter around the shiny bauble his father caught a glimpse of.

"Eh, what I tell you about lying to me, _petite_?" Henri firmly scolded, fixing his son with an accusing stare. The boy glared, but grudgingly held out his open palm to reveal a pair of sparkling ruby and diamond earrings. Unable to fight a smirk as he relieved Simon of his treasures and held them up to the light, Henri stated, "Your _maman_'s been looking for dese. You take 'em from her jewelry box?"

Completely enthralled, Simon watched in fascination as the gems and white gold glittered before his deep brown eyes. "Dey're pretty," He admitted quietly, seeming almost hypnotized.

"Yes, dey are," Henri agreed, trying his hardest not to grin proudly, "But dey belong to your _maman_ and you don't ever steal from her. Dat's one of the first rules of being a thief."

Obviously upset, Simon watched his father tuck the earrings into his pocket. The little boy folded his arms across his chest and pouted crankily.

Mercy stalked silently into the room a few moments later, sneaking up on her distracted husband as he dealt with Simon's shoes and grabbing a large handful of his butt. "My boys dressed yet?" She asked, grinning widely as Henri yelped and fell over and the three little ones all giggled in amusement.

"_Oui_," Henri replied, hurriedly leaping to his feet in an attempt to salvage some dignity as he tugged his wife into a playful embrace, "But _you_ ain't gonna stay dressed long if you keep that up."

"Keep what up?" The tall, slim woman inquired innocently, flipping short blonde bangs out of her crystal blue eyes. Henri groaned softly, leaning in to plant a long, passionate kiss on his wife's beautiful mouth. All three of his boys chimed, "Eeeewwww..."

"Aw, shut it," Their father ordered, thoroughly intent on enjoying the few moments he had with his love.

Only a few seconds later, the doorbell rang and Henri let out a frustrated growl as his snickering wife ducked out of his arms in order to answer it. "Good morning!" She cried, smiling delightedly at Lapin and his petite brunette wife, Lucille.

Grinning impishly as he guided Lucille into the room with a hand at the small of short woman's back, Lapin sweetly asked, "We interrupt something?"

"Always, Lapin," Henri grumbled, lightly smacking his cousin before he grabbed his coat. "Ok, boys," He addressed his sons, leaning in to kiss and hug each one, "I got important business today so I probably won't be home until late. Have fun meeting Juliette and be good for your _maman_."

"_Au revoir_, Papa!" Nicolas chirped, waving as the two men left, "_Au revoir_, Cousin Lapin!"

"You ready, Merce?" Lucille asked, shifting the large redheaded baby she was struggling to carry. Laughing, Mercy grabbed her bags and proclaimed, "_Oui_, time to go meet de littlest LeBeau."

xxXxx

Remy was groggy. The pills he was taking to treat his pneumonia and various other infirmities always made him groggy. And nauseas. He was barely keeping down his breakfast and lunch sounded like a very bad idea.

Still, he was happy. Sprawled in the darkened den of his father's home, watching an old kung fu movie while his beautiful daughter slept on his chest, how could he not be? He had lost everything and almost died. Now he was home with his family, his exile in the process of being lifted by his father, brother, and cousin, the three spending the day negotiating with the head of the Assassins Guild. Conveniently, Belladonna, Remy's former wife, still loved the thief and, when she heard of all he'd been through, tearfully confessed that Julien was alive, that he'd faked his death and blackmailed her to keep quiet. The thieves were enraged and Marius Boudreaux was embarrassed. He was expected to lift the exile and do whatever he had to in order to appease Jean-Luc and the thieves, Remy especially.

Remy didn't want a thing; he was just happy to be home.

Just as the auburn-haired mutant was considering getting up because Mercy was bound to show up soon with his nephews, Remy heard the door slowly open and little feet pad cautiously into the room.

"Uncle Remy?" The approaching blue-eyed mini-Henri called quietly, "Hi. It's Nico. Can I come see my cousin Juliette?"

"Of course, _petite_," The thief answered, smiling as the boy excitedly ran the last few steps to the comfortable brown leather sofa, jumped up beside him, and waited expectantly. Mercy and Lucille entered a few moments later, juggling their respective sons.

Remy grinned roguishly. "What you been feedin' de boy, Mercy?" He teased, watching his nephew peering curiously at the baby still asleep on his chest, "He got all... big."

"Dey do tend to do dat," His sister-in-law chuckled, taking a seat on Remy's free side and putting her arm around his painfully thin shoulders, "Missed you, _petite frère_."

"Missed you, too," The young man sighed, closing his eyes and smiling as a new wave of exhaustion took spread over him. Mercy noticed, holding a hand to his forehead as she asked, "You sure you're up for a visit? I can take all de kids out if you need to get some rest."

"_Non_, I be alright," Remy insisted, opening his eyes and smiling at the small brunette standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "_Bonjour_," The thief greeted, "You must be Lucille, de woman crazy enough to marry and reproduce with Lapin."

"_Oui_," She laughed, readjusting the heavy baby on her shoulder, "And you must be Remy, de crazy cousin Lapin has all de stories about." Remy smiled as the woman sat down beside Nicolas and remarked, "Oh, that your little one? She's a doll!"

"_Merci_," Remy proudly returned, "Your_ Élan_ is very... large."

Groaning, Lucille patted the chunky redhead's diapered butt and replied, "Ugh. Don't remind me." The adults all had a good laugh.

"Uncle Remy! My cousin Juliette is waking up!" Nico proclaimed, tugging excitedly on his uncle's sleeve, "When she wakes up, can I hold her? Please? I'll be careful! I didn't drop Ani or Christien even once!"

Remy laughed, drawing a soothing hand down his fussing daughter's back as he answered, "Well, since you seem to be such an expert, I don' see why not. Dat ok, Merce?"

The blonde chuckled under her breath, bouncing little Anatole on her knee as she stated, "_Oui_, of course. Nico hasn't been able to talk about much else for days. I'm just thrilled it's gotten him off the subject of _une petite soeur_ of his own."

"Three your limit?" Remy teased, carefully transferring Juliette to Nicolas' waiting arms. "Damn straight," Mercy agreed, affectionately trying to flatten the frizzy mess of Simon's wild curls as he hid behind her leg.

"_Bonjour_, Juliette!" Nico chirped brightly, smiling down into the little girl's confused face, "I'm Nicolas! You can call me Nico! I'm your cousin!" After being distracted for a few moments by her unusual glowing eyes, the brunette pointed to each of the other individuals in the room as he introduced, "And dat's my _maman_, and my brother Anatole. We call him Ani. And dat's my other brother Simon. And dat's Cousin Lucille and Cousin Christien."

He paused, almost like he was expecting some sort of answer. When he got none, the boy continued on without skipping a beat, "My papa and Cousin Lapin and _Grand-père _ain't here right now, but I think you already met dem cuz dey told me all about you. Cousin Emile and Cousin Theo said they met you, too, and Great Uncle Claude and _Tante_ Mattie. We a family and you gonna like being in our family. Papa says that families protect each other and take care of each other and love each other when no one else will, so it's really good to have one."

As the adults cooed over Nico's precocious little speech, Juliette continued to stare blankly up at her smiling cousin. Carefully, the boy petted her soft black hair and drew a finger over the sharp points on the tips of her crimson horns. Remy watched, wary of some kind of delayed reaction to the mutation. Nico didn't seem to care, however, grinning broadly as he complimented, "You got a pretty head."

All of Remy's concerned vanished in one deep chuckle, Nico continuing to chatter as Simon became curious and cautiously crept over to conduct his own investigation. Even Ani was in on it, the tiny boy still sucking his thumb as he inquisitively leaned over his baby cousin.

A family was completed.

xxXxx

Several hours later, after indulging his little nephews in some playful roughhousing, Remy grudgingly succumbed to the drugs in his system, leaving Mercy and Lucille to quietly creep out of the den with all the children in tow. Even though they both suspected the young thief would be annoyed when he woke up, the women agreed that he needed the rest. Their lovable brother/cousin-in-law may have been getting better, but he was still sick and weak.

"Dere's _mes anges_!" Tante happily proclaimed as Nico led Ani into the kitchen, Simon trailing not far behind. The old black woman dropped what she was doing in favor of plucking each of her surrogate grandchildren up from the ground and giving them loving kisses on their foreheads. Nico beamed. Ani blushed. Simon scowled.

"Yucky!" The little blonde insisted, furiously smudging the spot with the palm of his hand.

"Yucky?" Mattie gaped, feigning hurt even as she tried her hardest not to laugh outright, "Yo' Tante's kisses are yucky?"

"_Oui_," Simon answered, frowning as he glared at the white-haired woman, "Girl germs."

"Tante don't got girl germs!" Nico argued brightly, giving his brother a sharp poke in the arm, "Papa says dere ain't no such things!"

"Yes dere are," Simon pouted, cranky that no one was taking his side. He stomped off to sulk by the cookie-filled oven, grumbling, "Stupid Nico..."

"Damn," Lucille groaned, struggling to keep the squirming, hyperactive mutant baby from leaping out of her arms as she entered the kitchen carrying Juliette, "And here I thought trading de _Élan_ for de sweet little girl was gonna make my afternoon easier! Dis kid is wild!"

Laughing, Mercy bounced the heavy redheaded baby on her hip and countered, "Looks can be deceiving. Your boy is big but he don't like moving around too much. Her cousins have gotten Juliette excited. Maybe we should let them all lay on a blanket in de living room."

"Sounds like a plan," Lucille groaned, nearly having a heart attack after almost dropping the raven-haired girl for the third time in almost as many minutes, "At least if she's on de floor, she ain't gonna split her head open!"

"Nico, Simon, Ani," Mercy called, gesturing her bickering sons away from the oven and their girl-germs argument, "Come on, _mes fils_. You get to play with little Christien and Juliette some more."

"Christien ain't little," Nico argued, grinning as he skipped ahead and plopped down in the middle of the big patchwork quilt spread out over the rich red carpet, "And Juliette is little, but she's not as little as Ani was."

Mercy chuckled as she and Lucille deposited the babies down on their stomachs. "Dat's right, my smart boy," The blonde woman agreed with a bittersweet smile, "Now, you be good and watch everyone while we help Tante with lunch, alright?"

"_Oui_, _Maman_," The boy happily agreed, smiling at his mother before turning back to the onyx-eyed infant who was reaching out to grab hold of his shoelace. With a surprising show of strength and dexterity for one so young, the horned girl managed to easily pull out the neat bow.

"Aw, Juliette," Nico whined, pouting at his cousin and somehow under the impression that she could understand him, "Wha'd you do dat for? Now my shoe's untied!"

After a brief moment of simply staring, the girl smiled a bright, toothless smile. Still pouting, Nico turned back to his shoes and announced, "Papa's been tryin to teach me to tie 'em myself... guess I can try..." With small clumsy fingers the brunette grabbed hold of both ends of his shoelace, a tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he mentally recited and carried out all the steps he could remember for tying his shoes.

When he succeeded, the boy's bright blue eyes went wide with shock. After just staring at the messy but complete bow situated on his bright red tennis shoe, Nicolas leapt to his feet, sprinting off to the kitchen as he shouted, "_Maman_!_ Maman_, I did it! I tied my shoe all by myself! Juliette untied it, and I tied it again!"

Wrinkling his nose at his brother's odd behavior, freckled little Simon LeBeau grumbled, "Weird." He plopped down into the spot Nico had just vacated, putting himself directly in front of the still smiling baby girl. "What you grinnin' at?" He demanded grumpily, unable to help himself from reaching out to touch the soft black hair on her head that Nico had been so taken with.

It was very nice, he grudgingly admitted, the scowl slowly melting off his face and becoming replaced by a slight smile. Juliette's happiness was infectious, even if the girl was unaware of her surroundings and drooling on the blanket. "Dumb baby," Simon muttered, still lightly petting her head, drawing circles around the bony red horns jutting from her pale, smooth forehead.

She reached out and grabbed for his face, tiny hand grasping the air as she made insistent burbling noises. Intrigued, Simon leaned closer. His heart was forever hers when she hesitantly touched his cheek and grinned broadly, the rubies set deep in her black eyes smoldering just for him.

xxXxx

Ten minutes later, Mercy was still in the kitchen congratulating her proudly grinning eldest son on his accomplishment when Remy suddenly appeared in the doorway. The red-eyed mutant fixed her with a bleary stare, immediately asking, "Where's Juliette?"

"On de blanket in de living room," Tante absentmindedly answered as she stirred a large, steaming pot of jambalaya. Ignoring the fact that his stomach gave a very appreciative and insistent growl when he got a whiff of the heavenly scent of it wafting through the kitchen, Remy argued, "No she ain't. Only Ani and Christien are on de blanket. What you done with my _bébé_?"

"Calm down, I'm sure she's fine," Mercy soothed as she rushed out into the living room to confirm her brother-in-law's report. Offering a forced smile, the tall blonde woman jogged into the entryway as she shouted, "SIMON RAOUL LEBEAU!! YOU GET YO' SKINNY LITTLE BEHIND IN HERE RIGHT DIS INSTANT!!"

"Simon stole my b_ébé_?" Remy asked breathlessly, confused and having a hard time keeping up with Mercy as she ran to check all the rooms on the first floor of the expansive mansion.

Sighing and gesturing Lucille and Tante to search a closet beneath the stairs, Mercy answered, "He takes things he thinks are pretty and hides with 'em. Usually it's just my jewelry... SIMON! I AIN'T PLAYIN WIT YOU!"

"So... he thinks Juliette is pretty and... took her?" Remy drawled slowly, unsure if he was understanding the situation correctly. Mercy rolled her eyes, crouching down to look underneath an antique end table as she grumbled, "Ya, dat about covers it... SIMON!!!"

"Well, make him bring her back!" The mutant demanded, scowling and looking rather immature.

"Gimme a minute," Mercy ordered, waving him off as she stood at the bottom of the long winding staircase, "He's a sneaky, willful little child, but we always find him. SIMON LEBEAU!! I'M COUNTING TO TEN AND DEN YOU GONNA BE IN BIG TROUBLE!!"

Nine and a half seconds later, a head of frizzy blonde curls appeared between the dark wood railings at the top of the landing. "What, _Maman_?" Simon asked innocently--well, as innocently as he was capable of.

"Simon," Mercy stated sternly, hands on her hips as she stared up at her middle son, "Where's Juliette?"

Realizing too late that he'd probably gotten himself in trouble, the boy pouted and claimed, "I was just showin her de crown."

"Crown?" Remy inquired, already struggling up the stairs. Mercy laughed, explaining, "Your _père_ stole a diamond tiara from de Hermitage and he's keeping it in his room while he arranges payment from de buyer. Simon's been sneaking up to play with it every time we come over."

"Huh," The mutant grunted, out of breath as he finally made it to the top of the stairs. His little nephew glowered at him before jumping to his feet and rushing back into Jean-Luc's room. Following slowly, Remy groaned, "Getting too old for dis..."

When he entered his father's richly decorated bedroom suite, all his anger and annoyance at Simon simply melted away. The boy had pulled the black satin duvet off of the king-sized bed in order to make a nest of sorts on the floor near the closet. Juliette was propped up with a few soft feather pillows, the infant truly looking the part of the princess that the glimmering diamond tiara set on her head would suggest. Simon was sitting beside her, just staring and seeming quite mesmerized.

"Ey," Remy softly ground out as he carefully lowered himself to the floor beside his daughter. Simon gave him an unsure look, but the auburn-haired mutant smirked in return, stating, "This mean you like your baby cousin?"

The boy nodded, going back to staring as he quietly answered, "_Oui_, she's pretty."

"I think so, too," Remy agreed, a little bit lightheaded after all the worry and exertion he'd put himself through. "Don't mind you wanting to play with her," He declared, panting and dizzy, "But ask next time, d_'accord_?"

Again, Simon nodded, fidgeting in silence for a few moments before he sheepishly questioned, "Who'd you steal her from?"

Remy frowned, "What?"

The boy squirmed a bit under his uncle's gaze, slowly clarifying, "Any time anyone brings home something pretty, they stole it from someone else."

Chuckling a bit, Remy stated, "Well, I guess I did steal her. Stole her from a whole bunch of people who didn't deserve her, who didn't understand what it really means to be a family. She'll be better off here with cousins like you treating her like a little princess."

"Princess of Thieves, right?" Simon chirped, smirking as the tiara slipped over Juliette's confused face. The boy was quick in rearranging it on her head, using her horns to keep it propped up.

Remy smiled. "Dat's right," He declared, gazing fondly at his giggling daughter as she played with her little red toes and the tiara wobbled on her head, "De Princess of Thieves."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Yayness and crackers! Thanks to all the people who reviewed! Do it again and I will be very, very pleased!


	4. Part 4: There is Thy Gold

Part 4 - There is Thy Gold

It was a Saturday, thank the Lord, and eight-year-old Juliette LeBeau finally had a chance to sleep in. Her schedule during the summer had been hectic thus far, filled with Guild training, family outings, and quite a bit of punishment for her frequent mischief during both. But at that moment, she had approximately three blissful hours all to herself. Cuddled snugly into her warm quilt, she planned to use those three hours to not move a damn muscle.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans, sending her distraught, shirtless father suddenly stomping into her room at about eight o'clock in the morning. "Jules," Remy demanded softly, leaning over his daughter as she kept her eyes stubbornly shut in the hopes he'd just go away. "Jules," The man called again, shaking her lightly, a little bit frustrated that he couldn't tell with his empathy whether or not she was faking sleep. She had always been a bit difficult to read. "My beautiful Princess Juliette," He tried once more, his voice sing-songy and sweet, "I ain't leaving 'til I talk to you."

The girl sighed heavily, rolling onto her back and reluctantly opening her unique red-on-black eyes. Blinking a few times in the faint sunlight, the girl frowned. "What you want?" She yawned, refusing to come out from her cozy quilted cocoon.

"You hiding a cat?" Remy questioned, accusing but hopeful.

Once again, the girl blinked. "Uh..." She gaped, extremely confused by the odd, random question, "No, Papa. I ain't hiding a cat."

Her father's handsome face fell in disappointment, his lips forming a rather immature pout amidst the russet stubble on his square jaw as he pressed, "You sure? I won't be mad."

"Pretty sure," Juliette answered slowly, suddenly thinking that she must be dreaming. Her papa was weird, but not bust-into-her-room-early-in-the-morning-to-interrogate-her-about-an-imaginary-secret-cat weird.

"Oh," Remy returned, obviously let down by the answer, "Alright, _petite_. Sorry to wake you." He bent down to plant a loving kiss on her forehead and then simply turned around and left, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

The girl tried to go back to sleep, but damned if Jules' curious nature didn't decide that finding out what on Earth had just happened was more important than a well-deserved lie-in. Grumbling a few of the more colorful words in her vocabulary, the skinny little mutant slowly got to her feet and stumbled out of her messy bedroom.

She found her papa standing at the sink in his large bathroom suite, the top of his head mere inches from the mirror as he slowly combed his fingers through his shaggy auburn hair and frowned gloomily at his reflection. With a stifled giggle, Jules thought that he looked very much like a monkey from the Discovery Channel grooming insects out of his fur. "Papa?" She called when she had stood beside him for a few moments but received no acknowledgement.

Remy jumped and whirled to face his daughter. A little embarrassed at being caught in such a stupid position, the master thief's features bloomed into a seldom-seen blush.

"What you doing?" The girl asked, rubbing a small fist into her tired glowing eyes. She yawned, making a face when an escaped lock of her wild black hair got into her mouth.

"Nothing," Remy answered, trying to look as innocent as possible and, for possibly the first time in his entire thirty-two years of life, failing miserably.

Jules smirked. "Didn't look like nothing," She declared, definitely more awake and enjoying torturing her uncomfortable father, "Looked like you were picking bugs out of your hair... you got lice?"

"No, I don't got lice!" The man asserted hotly, frowning at the impish child. After another few moments he added seriously, "You _sure_ you ain't hiding a cat?"

Raising one thin black eyebrow, Juliette guessed, "You're looking for my imaginary secret cat in your hair?"

Remy's skin flushed pink once again, all the way from his cheeks to his chest. "No," He stated, shifting nervously back and forth from one bare foot to the other as his glowing eyes darted around the room.

"Den what _are_ you doing?" She pressed, scratching the back of one flannel covered knee with her small foot.

Suddenly looking very grave, Remy carefully pinched the marble counter top and then held his clasped index finger and thumb out in front of himself. Jules had to squint to see what he was holding. Quirking the other eyebrow, she asked, "A hair?"

"A _gray_ hair," Her father solemnly reported, "Found it on my pillow dis morning."

After a brief pause, the sleepy little devil girl burst out laughing.

"Ain't funny!" Remy argued, pouting like a toddler, "I'm too damn young to be growing gray hairs! You_ sure_ you ain't hiding a cat? A gray cat dat likes to shed on my pillow?"

"I'm sure, Papa," Jules snickered, snatching the offending strand of keratin from him. Shifting easily into an acting mode, the girl put on a very serious expression before insisting, "And de hair ain't gray. It's _silver_."

She did not let her father's glare deter her, continuing very sincerely, "And any good thief knows how beautiful and valuable silver is-"

A slight, reluctant smile came over Remy's face.

That is, until his daughter finished, "-even de ancient stuff."

Jules' three hours of free time quickly vanished as she found herself giggling and running frantically away from her father's outraged shouting and playful, half-hearted threats of swift retribution.

xxXxx

"_How old are you today, Jules?_" A deep voice chuckled somewhere off screen. The sweet, angelic little devil girl depicted on the large television monitor was seated behind a white frosted birthday cake. She had a glittery plastic tiara perched on the crown of her head and was happily grinning straight into the camera as she chirped, "_I'm four!_"

A wrinkled, gray-haired Jean-Luc LeBeau leaned around his granddaughter's shoulder, kissing her cheek and lighting the candles on her cake as he prompted, "_And what do you think dat makes you old enough to do now, ey, _petite"

The onyx-eyed mutant scrunched up her angelic face in deep thought, pushing wild black hair away from the small, bony crimson horns growing out of her forehead. All at once, a brilliant smile bloomed, the girl bouncing in her seat as she cried, "_OOO! I'm old enough to drive de car!_"

"_Hah!_" Sitting on the comfortable chair in the living room of his small house, Remy LeBeau found himself smiling fondly as he heard his own voice remarking on the old home movie, "_In your dreams_. _You ain't driving 'til you're thirty, Hurricane Jules_."

He watched his four-year-old daughter pout directly at the camera once again, which he happened to have been holding when the video was shot. "_Dat ain't fair!_" She cried, folding her arms over the frilly pink dress Tante forced her into that day, "_I'd be a great driver!_"

"_You couldn't even reach de pedals_,_ shrimp_," Simon teased, the blonde suddenly plopping down beside his baby cousin and sticking his finger in her cake. At eight-years-old, he was tall for his age, skinny and gangly and awkward. The boy could be quite a little bastard, as the mouthful of stolen icing attested to, but he did love his baby cousin dearly. Hardly a day went by when he wasn't walking the block and half between his house and his Uncle Remy's in order to see her. It was her eyes, Remy knew; Simon was infatuated with the rubies in her eyes, always had been and always would be.

"_Hey!_" Juliette screeched, standing up on the picnic table bench to make herself look taller as she asserted, "_Could too! Tante! Simon touched my cake!_"

The camera panned towards the right, zooming in on the plump black woman as she tried to herd Nico, Ani, and Christien towards the festivities, Henri, Mercy, Lucille, Theo, and Emile bringing up the rear. "_Ain't no harm in stealing a taste_. _I seem to recall you have a fondness fo' doing de exact same thing_," Mattie soothed, laughing as blue-eyed mini-Henri Nico swung Ani onto his back and ran giggling towards the table, leaving Christien, who was far too large for that even at the age of four, to totter along behind them. The camera panned back just in time to catch Simon smugly sticking his tongue out at Juliette.

The girl glared and then smirked evilly. Without first sitting through the traditional song, she quickly bent down to blow out her four flickering candles, picked the small cake up off the table, and then slammed the whole thing right into her cousin's startled face. She giggled as it fell away to reveal Simon's frosting-covered expression of shock, quickly hopping off the bench with a surprising amount of grace and skill for one so young as the boy growled and made to chase her.

"_JULES!_" He screamed, streaking off after the little girl as she ran squealing through the long grass at the edge of the swamp that bordered Jean-Luc's property, "_GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!_" Remy found himself smirking once again as he basked in the memory.

"Hehe," A light little voice snickered as a pair of arms slid around his neck, "I love dis one." The auburn-haired thief looked up, immediately seeing his daughter's smiling face. She was so pretty, he thought proudly, beautiful, and pale, and delicate, but still tough as nails, her wild black hair pulled back from her sweet heart-shaped face, brilliant smile wide and beaming as her eyes glowed a deep red. She was dressed in all black, finally ready to leave for Guild training after spending the morning getting chased around the house by her playful father.

"As do I, _petite_," He laughed, pausing the video before grabbing the girl and swinging her over the back of his chair. He cuddled her tightly to his chest, smothering her with noisy kisses as she giggled and squirmed in his lap, "I love anything with my Princess in it."

Juliette LeBeau smiled up at her daddy, mischievously reporting, "Well, I love anything with Simon getting caked in de face in it."

Throwing his head back, Remy let out a loud hearty cackle.

And then immediately began coughing. The morning of running and laughing had finally caught up to him.

"Oh! Papa! Your asthma!" The girl cried, leaping to her feet and running to find an inhaler. She was back within seconds, and Remy was taking desperate puffs of medication shortly thereafter, his shoulders shaking as his daughter carefully carded her fingers through his hair and instructed, "Go slow, Papa. I'm right here."

"I'm fine," He finally gasped, putting on a brave face as he slowly calmed down. Every asthma attack or flare up of his chronic pneumonia was a harsh reminder of what the X-Men had done to him. Remy found himself once again cursing them all to hell.

"You sure, Papa?" The skinny eight-year-old inquired, her eyes wide and apprehensive as she pouted at him and ran her blunt red fingernails tenderly over his cheek.

Managing a slightly smile as he continued to wheeze, Remy hugged her close and buried his face in her hair. "Long as I got you," He rasped, "I be a happy man."

xxXxx

Emile Benoit anxiously looked over the training schedule tacked to the wall of the Thieves Guild gym, searching for the name of the student he had been assigned to that day. It was summer time, which meant the Guild children were out of school, which meant the five-day-a-week half-day training sessions--as opposed to three-day-a-week two-hour morning and night training sessions--were once again starting up. Any thief not on a heist would be showing up to offer his or her expertise in educating the next generation.

His handsome face broke into an excited grin when he read "12:00 P.M. - Juliette LeBeau" printed neatly right beside his name.

"Ey, Theo," The burly twenty-four-year-old laughed, smacking his brother in the arm and almost causing him to drop one of the sugary beignets he was munching on for breakfast. Disregarding the venomous glare his mirror-image sent him, Emile smugly announced, "I got Jules."

"Lucky bastard," The dark-haired man grumbled, leaning over to search the list for his own student. He smirked, happily stating, "Well, I got Christien. We can keep dem together in de weight room and vaults."

Chuckling, Emile replied, "Ya, but Jules is past him in everything aside from computer hacking, and even den she's not far behind."

"Not de _Élan's_ fault he's a clumsy giant," Theo said with a shrug, "Guess he takes after us more den Lapin. I'm sure he'll adjust."

"Ey," His twin snapped, petulantly wrinkling his broad nose, "You calling me a clumsy giant?"

Theo arched one dark eyebrow, flatly stating, "Don't tell me you don't remember what it was like to be a big awkward teenager. And poor Christien is a big awkward grade schooler." Emile suddenly looked thoughtful, gazing off into space as he mused, "Oh ya... dat wasn't too fun." With an eye roll, Theo went back to his beignets.

At promptly 11:55 A.M., Remy and Lapin escorted their children into the Thieves' Guild's private gymnasium and training center, chuckling as they watched Juliette chatter happily and bounce in circles around her big redheaded cousin. Not really a morning person--even though it was nearly noon and that was hardly an excuse--Christien was only managing small, tired grunts as he rubbed his large fists into his bleary blue eyes. A certain hyperactive horned cousin had kept him up half the night breaking in to a museum she'd been banned from. The girl had needed his help rearranging the exhibits to get back at them.

"You're mine, Jules," Emile called across the wide open room, managing to successfully take the girl's attention off of Christien. Smiling, she turned to face the taller man, red eyes glowing and long, wild black hair pulled back into a neat braid. "Can I jump de ledges?" The mutant requested, showing off even while stretching as she managed to keep perfectly balanced and wedge one skinny ankle all the way behind her horned head.

"No," Her father cut in, giving the girl a very stern look when she pouted at him. "Don't want you doing dat one again until you get a bit older," Remy proclaimed, absolutely determined _not_ to give in, even though he usually did let his baby girl have anything she wanted, "You nearly broke your arm last time you were in dere."

"That was Marquis' fault!" She grumpily proclaimed, "He was mad dat I was beating his time so he pushed me off!"

"And I'm taking care of him," Remy answered, still sticking to his guns, "He is mine today, after all, but I still don't want you on dose things for awhile." He turned to his twin cousins, instructing, "Emile, don't let her jump de ledges. And, Theo, don't let Emile let her jump de ledges." Emile frowned as his brother gave a mock salute. "Not fair," Jules grumbled.

However, she wasn't given long to sulk as a loud shout from Jean-Luc echoed through the wide open training floor, the Guild leader thoroughly examining the training equipment as he enthusiastically instructed, "Start warming up, _petites_. You all got big days ahead of you."The baker's dozen of young thieves-in-training ran to pull tumbling mats to the center of the room, where the black-clad youths ranging in age from eight to eighteen began stretching and sparring, playful as they greeted friends and relatives.

Smiling fondly, Remy watched as his daughter sparred with his nephews, twelve-year-old Simon and thirteen-year-old Nicolas LeBeau, as well as eighteen-year-old Marquis Marseille, with whom she had a bit of a love-hate relationship.

Marquis was the oldest of this newest generation of young thieves and he had always been the head of the class until about a year previous when Juliette began her formal Guild training. With a strong foundation in gymnastics, combat, stealth, and safe-cracking, as well as the clear advantages of being a mutant and the Princess of Thieves, the girl had quickly progressed to if not equal to than not far from the older boy's level.

While Marquis hated her for it, anyone watching could still detect a kind of grudging admiration and respect, especially when they were competing or fighting, which they did at all available opportunities.

Remy stoically observed as the sandy-haired teen dodged Jules' punches. His daughter was leading Marquis away from her cousins, having complained to him many times that Nico and Simon refused to be tough enough on her.

That was never a problem with Marquis, the muscular young man readily kicking Jules' hand out from under her when she attempted to bounce away from him with a graceful back-handspring. She had always been near indestructible though and was very quick to recover, landing on her butt but flipping right back to her feet in one swift instant. She continued to fight without skipping a beat.

Remy was so busy being proud that he didn't notice his older brother approach until Henri was right beside him. "Who you got today, _petite frère_?" The brunette asked, conducting his own proud examination as Nico helped small, ten-year-old Ani practice standing back-flips--even if his youngest son was having problems keeping his new glasses on his face during the activity--and Simon, with his skinny body and head of frizzy golden curls, shamelessly teased gangly, redheaded Zoé Roux, on whom all the adults knew he was quite sweet.

"Marquis," Remy distractedly replied, not bothering to take his eyes off the warm ups. Laughing, Henri clasped his little brother on the shoulder and remarked, "Ah. Dat boy's cocky as all hell. You should have a lot to talk about."

The thief frowned. "And who did you get?" He asked scathingly, his breath catching harshly in his damaged lungs when Marquis punched Jules in the head. However, the auburn-haired man was snickering a moment later as the teen gave a yelp of pain and began shaking out his fist. Jules always did have a hard head. The theory was that her skull was excessively thick as another part of her physical mutation, though her overwhelming fear or hospitals and, to some extent, doctors made it impossible to get her in for tests.

"Hélène Gaulle," Henri answered casually, also chuckling as he watched his pretty niece beat up on a boy who was more than twice her age and size. The mutant beside him laughed. "Good luck," Remy replied mockingly, "Marquis' a kitten compared to dat _fille_."

"She ain't dat bad," Henri weakly defended, his eyes straying to the pair of young blondes doing spin-kicks in the corner. Hélène and Yvette Gaulle were the ten-year-old twin daughters of the Guild's head physician, Alexandre Gaulle. They were both pretty and skilled, but, while Yvette was a brainy, quite girl who was thought destined to follow in her father's footsteps as a Guild doctor, Hélène was loud, crass, and had a ticking time bomb for a temper.

She was most notorious for her very first week of training, when she threw poor little Philippe Emery out of a tree. They were supposed to be hiding and the girl claimed that he was breathing too loudly, that she didn't want to fail the exercise just because her partner was "_un petite con_" (a little shit). It took three of the instructors the entire rest of the lesson to explain why a body falling out of a tree was a bit more conspicuous than loud breathing. To that day, she still vehemently maintained that it was all Philippe's fault she failed the concealment exercise. The little blonde boy was eleven that summer, and still scared to death of Hélène, keeping to the complete opposite end of the gym as he warmed up.

Francis "Lapin" Benoit jogged up to the small group of men, his usually happy face solemn as he reported, "I got Hugo." Everyone else winced before laughing at the short redhead's misfortune.

Hugo Allaire was fourteen and already crazy for explosives. No one could count the number of times he'd almost blown up the Guild gym with homemade dynamite he brought in because he didn't like "de fake stuff" young thieves were taught with until they reached an age at which they could be trusted with actual explosives. Hugo would probably never be deemed to be at that age.

At least his nine-year-old cousin, Olivier Babin, was as sweet and well-behaved as Hugo was insane, chatting quietly with Christien as the both of them sat on a mat and stretched.

Swinging her hips, a slim, sultry blonde stalked her way towards the men, silently sidling up beside Henri. "Ey, LeBeau," The woman cooed into his ear, smiling smugly when the brunette gave a small, startled jump, "Seems like I got your Nico today."

Henri frowned, squirming uncomfortably as he replied, "Oh... dat's nice."

"Sophie, you minx!" Emile smoothly chirped, winking at the tall, curvaceous lady, "When did you get back? Your job in Rome go alright?"

"Yesterday morning," She answered, smiling at the young man, "And it was easy as pie. In fact, a little disappointing. Hell, I didn't even have to break in. I just flirted a bit with de guards, made up some bullshit about taking de painting for restoration, and, bingo, carried a DaVinci masterpiece out through de front door."

"Ain't fair," Lapin pouted dramatically, still a bit sulky over the impending loss of his eyebrows.

"Just cuz you ain't suave like Sophie and me don't mean you gotta hate," Remy teased, winking flirtatiously at his sort-of girlfriend... well, the woman with whom he occasionally had great sex...

Sophie Borgognon grinned, agreeing, "Exactly! OOO! Remy! You got de video of Jules' play for me? I can't believe I got called out on dat job three minutes before curtain!" Ok, also the woman who was trying her hardest to get in good with his daughter...

But Jules did not like Sophie. She was pretty, the girl admitted, but she told her father that she found the female thief to be quite... fake. Her blonde hair was a dye job, her French-tipped fingernails thick acrylics, and her much fawned over cleavage Wonderbra™ induced. Even the woman's sparkling blue eyes were fake, a ring of brown sometimes just barely visible when her colored contacts shifted.

Remy really hoped she wouldn't be pushing him for a serious commitment any time soon. He had no interest whatsoever in one. His briefly rekindled romance with Belladonna Boudreaux had nearly ended in him being shish-kabobbed for the very same reason. After getting his heart broken by Rogue, he couldn't ever see himself wanting more than occasional companionship and fair regular sex. The next time Sophie hinted at how much his daughter needed a mother Remy was going to break things off. He had a feeling that such an occasion would not be long in happening.

"_Merde_," The mutant swore, giving himself a light smack in the forehead, "I forgot it on de counter at home. Had a problem with my asthma, so I was running late by de time I got it under control-"

"You had an attack dis morning?" Henri interrupted, immediately concerned for his little brother's sometimes troublesome health, "You alright? You sure you're up for dis today? I'll take Marquis if you wanna rest."

"I'm fine, Henri," He laughed, "Jules took good care of me. Didn't even have to go to de doctor dis time." The tall, muscular thief turned back to Sophie, giving her a friendly smile as he offered, "Jules is going to de beach with her cousins tomorrow, so if you wanna come over to my place and watch de video, you're welcome to."

"Think I'll do dat," The woman grinned, lightly touching Remy's solid bicep, "Better be ready for me, Cajun."

xxXxx

Meanwhile, a few of the thieves-in-training had taken advantage of a lapse in responsible adult supervision in order to quietly sneak out of the main gym. Jules LeBeau and Marquis Marseille stood face-to-face in the center of a simulated alleyway. The space was narrow, with small faux window ledges sticking out from the sparsely padded walls. The ledges grew progressively narrower the higher up they were, each with either a large red or blue button somewhere on it. A wobbly wooden platform hung from the ceiling by one sturdy chain bolted in dead-center. It looked as if only a single very well-balanced person could fit on it at a time.

Jacinthe Didier, sixteen at the time, stood guard at the door while Hélène fiddled around in the control room. "You just watch!" Petite, raven-haired Juliette smugly asserted as she balled her little fists at her slim hips and smirked up the boy before her, "I'm gonna beat you so bad you ain't gonna be able to tell which way's up!"

"In your dreams," Marquis fired back, trying to hide that he suspected some competition from the eight-year-old. Getting beat by a girl would be embarrassing enough, but getting beat by one who'd just barley started grade school? Well, the sandy-haired teen would never been able to live that down. "You just gonna fall again," He taunted, "Like last time, and I ain't taking de blame for it!"

"Shhh!" Jacinthe hissed, the lanky brunette watching the adults through a crack in the door, "Be quiet or dis ain't never gonna happen! And den de rest of us are gonna have to list to you two babies bicker for another six fucken months!"

"_All set_," Came Hélène's voice through the loud speaker, a shadow of the stocky blonde girl just barely visible behind the tinted window of the control room, "_Get ready_."

A red "00:00:00" appeared on the large digital clock above the booth, and Jules and Marquis both took positions on opposite walls, on opposite ends of the simulated alley, on equally small ledges. After a tense pause, a small beep echoed throughout the room and both children were immediately moving.

The object of the exercise was to be the first person to reach the platform suspended from the ceiling some fifty feet above the ground. Young thieves had to flip, leap, jump, etc. back and forth between the walls, competing for the best time as they activated either red or blue buttons, all the while traveling upwards as the ledges grew narrower and the alley grew wider, a hidden mechanical mechanism slowly moving the walls away from each other.

Marquis was fast, efficient, and strong, but Jules was graceful and agile, tumbling through the air without fear and landing without sound on each next ledge to tap her red buttons. She was lithe, and elegant, and beautiful to watch, like an acrobat, or a butterfly, or an angel. She was born to fly.

Which was why Jacinthe abandoned her look-out post at the door, the teen awestruck and slightly jealous of how quick and elegant little Jules was as she scrambled higher and higher and higher. The brunette did not notice when Christien Benoit slipped into the room, when he was joined shortly after by Nico, Simon, and Ani LeBeau, Hugo Allaire and Zoé Roux, Philippe Emery, Yvette Gaulle, and Olivier Babin. Despite Nico's first instinct to get his baby cousin down, all the thieves-in-training were soon cheering the pair on, shouting encouragement as they both passed the hallway point almost simultaneously. The clock read "02:34:12."

"Kick his ass, Jules!" Simon cheered, grinning stupidly as he watched his cousin artfully defy gravity over and over again.

"And be careful!" Nico added, his heart in his throat and a smile on his handsome face as the girl scaled higher and higher.

Ani's green eyes were so wide behind his thick glasses that they threatened to engulf the rest of his head.

"What de hell is goin' on in here?" Jean-Luc demanded as he burst into the infiltration training room. The old man turned his back for five minutes to set up some of the other exercises and all the kids just disappeared! Their parents and teachers were no help, too distracted by shameless flirting and boasting--which, besides stealing and eating, was what the thieves did best--to even notice their charges had left.

Walking into the seldom-used ledge room to find his youngest grandchild already thirty feet from the floor was both troublesome and awe-inspiring. On the one hand, she could get hurt. On the other, she was so utterly... beautiful flying through the air that he had a hard time looking away or conjuring any emotion aside from pride.

The noise from the riotous cheering of the young thieves finally drew attention from the assorted adults still in the main gym, all of them rushing over to investigate. Knowing his daughter well enough to know that she was involved and at least partly culpable in whatever mischief was taking place, Remy was at the lead.

His strong square jaw dropped nearly to the floor when he arrived just in time to look up and watch Juliette and Marquis take simultaneous jumps off of either side of the near fully-extended alleyway. Both were at least fifteen feet from the wobbly platform hanging from the ceiling, careening towards it and each other.

When she and Marquis landed together, there was a split second where everyone in the crowd held their breaths. The platform was only supposed to fit one person but, fortunately, Jules was rather petite and didn't need much of the space, leaving enough for Marquis to gain a hold. The slab of wood wobbled but neither child fell the fifty feet to the padded floor. In fact, each grabbed a handful of the other's black uniform to make sure he or she stayed in place. The red numbers of the big digital clock froze at "4:59:56."

Before anyone could even remember to breathe again, the horned mutant hanging high above their heads triumphantly laughed, "Ha! I win!!"

"No way!" Marquis cried indignantly, giving the girl a light shove that set the platform to swinging even more perilously, "I beat you by a long shot, shorty!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did no-"

"JULIETTE RENÉE LEBEAU!!!" Remy screeched, making everyone in the room jump. His voice was furious and terrified and grating as he bellowed up at his daughter, "YOU GET YO' SKINNY LITTLE BEHIND DOWN HERE RIGHT DIS SECOND!!! WHAT DID I TELL YOU, GIRL? WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU NOT FIVE DAMN MINUTES AGO YOU WERE NOT TO DO?"

The girl frowned over the edge of the platform, innocently claiming, "Marquis made me do it."

"What?" Her co-inhabitant of the small and dangerous space gaped incredulously, "I sure as hell didn't _make you_! I swear, Remy! Dis was all her idea! And I didn't know you told her she wasn't allowed!"

"Both of you just get down," Henri ordered, looking very concerned over the vein throbbing in his brother's temple. Remy and Juliette butted heads quite a bit--the child had always been willful and disobedient--but he let most things go because, well, he'd done most of them himself, not to mention that the Prince couldn't help spoiling his little Princess. However, he had never been able to handle his daughter putting herself in danger. That was the one thing that always managed to set him off.

Juliette huffed but did as she was told, gracefully vaulting backwards from the platform to the wall and then quickly scrambling straight down. Marquis wasn't far behind. Halfway to the floor, the silence of the training room was broken by muffled but hysterical laughter from inside the control booth.

"Dat Hélène in dere?" Jean-Luc demanded flatly, looking at the shadow of the blonde girl behind the black tinted window, "What's so funny, _petite_?"

After a few more seconds of giggling, the loud speakers clicked on and a very amused voice announced, "_Marquis missed a button_. _Jules wins_."

Nearly to the floor, Marquis was so utterly shocked by the declaration that he lost his footing and fell the last five feet straight onto his backside. Snickering, Juliette did an elegant double tuck flip and landed lightly, her little feet meeting the padded floor without so much as a whisper. "Told ya so," She taunted smugly, flipping her long black braid over one skinny shoulder as she turned to face her father.

Remy was only able to hold the angry glare for another few seconds before the corners of his lips quirked up into a proud smile.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aw. I made myself smile, too. She's a cute little girl, ain't she? Hehe, anyways, hope you guys liked this installment and reviews, as always, are highly appreciated. Much more to come, sports fans, so stay tuned!


	5. Part 5: Arise, Fair Sun

Part 5 - Arise, Fair Sun

Remy LeBeau thought himself in pretty good shape for a man of thirty-seven. Sure, his auburn hair was a little gray--silver, his daughter had insisted since the color had first made its appearance a little over five years previous--around the temples and, even thirteen years after his Antarctic exile, he still had problems with asthma and chronic pneumonia.

Other than that, though, he fancied himself a perfect specimen of manliness. His work as a thief was physically demanding, which sculpted his broad, muscular frame into one that could quite easily be mistaken for that of a twenty-year-old body builder, thank you very much. And he could still drive the _filles_ wild with just one sultry smirk. It was just too bad that most of them wanted commitment. Remy was already hopelessly devoted to one beautiful little devil girl and there was no room in his life for another.

It was late-September, and Remy had only arrived back in New Orleans a few hours earlier. After a successful job in Helsinki, he was greatly looking forward to being able to spend the next few weeks relaxing in his hometown. He was also looking forward to kissing his daughter. The poor thief hadn't seen her in almost a week, and it felt like years. It always felt like years when he was forced to take business trips without her at his side.

His father's mansion was still and quiet when he arrived just as the sun was spilling over the horizon. No one would be up for another hour yet, but he desperately wanted to catch Juliette before her cousins came to pick her up for school. He'd been feeling guilty on this trip since he couldn't bring her along and she pouted about being left alone in the big house with only two old people for company. A smirk came across the mutant's handsome face as he thought back on Jean-Luc's outraged expression upon hearing that, how his father had countered that she needed some proper adult supervision to keep her out of the trouble she was so notorious for.

The hope was that a fearful respect for the authority of Jean-Luc and Tantewould keep the Princess of Thieves in line until Remy could return.

So far, all evidence suggested that the plan had been successful, which was precisely the reason Remy opted for the earlier flight home. It felt like the calm before a storm.

Intent on surprising everyone when they came down for breakfast, Remy made his way to the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, and sat down at the bar. To keep himself entertained, he flipped the TV to some big news station, smugly waiting to hear reports of his crime.

"_Our top story this Thursday morning_,"An old anchor with a bad toupee stated in a monotone drawl, "_A priceless piece of history was stolen late last night_-"

_"Here it comes," _Remy thought haughtily, unreasonably proud of himself for the theft having gotten onto the news so quick.

"-_from the Museum of Art in New Orleans, Louisiana_," The anchor finished, effectively knocking Gambit's ego down a peg or two, "_Our field reporter Cynthia Nolan has the story_."

"_Thank you, Tom_," Cynthia answered brightly, blonde hair gelled and sprayed into a perfect bob framing her classically pretty face, "_I'm here outside the New Orleans Museum of Art, where the curators were shocked this morning to discover that a suit of 15th century Italian tournament armor, once worn by the country's crown prince, was missing from the east wing of the building. Police have found no evidence of a break in, leading to the conclusion that it was a professional job. The suit of armor is estimated to weigh several hundred pounds and cannot be carried by just one person. Its worth is priceless. So far, there are no leads, but anyone with information is encouraged to call the New Orleans police department at_..."

Remy's mouth was hanging wide open in shock and horror. He was frozen as the possibilities raced through his head. _"Couldn't have been her,"_ He reasoned desperately to himself, _"She ain't dat reckless_..._ aw, _merde._ Yes she is_..._"_

The news had gone to commercial when Remy was finally pulled from his startled state of alarm by a loud _CLANG-CLANG CLANG-CLANG_ coming from the second story. Already knowing what he was going to find, the thief raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Damn, it's heavy," A light voice grunted and snickered, "How da hell did knights fight in dese things?" After a few more _CLANG-CLANG_'s, another, far deeper voice chuckled, "Dey were trained from a very young age, and it probably helped dat dey had pages to help dem carry stuff around."

"Dat make you my page, _Élan_?" The girl's voice laughed, slightly muffled. With a reluctant laugh of his own, the boy responded, "_Non_, dat makes me yo' stooge. Still can't believe I let you talk me into dis... my _mère_ is gonna kill me."

"Not if I get dere first," Remy bellowed, shaking his head as he stood in the doorway of the room his daughter had claimed from the time she was three onward. The two teens both whipped around towards the source of the noise. Juliette's face, though obscured by the black metal grate of the helmet she was wearing, bloomed into a brilliant smile.

"PAPA!" The girl squealed, making quite a racket as she _CLANG-CLANG-_ed across the room in the full suit of armor that didn't quite fit her petite frame. She didn't care, immediately throwing her arms around her father and hugging him tightly.

"Missed you, too, _mon ange_," Remy breathed as he hugged his tin can daughter, forgetting for a few moments to be mad at her out of sheer relief from having her in his arms again. That didn't last long, however, the thief pulling away and gazing down into the tiny pinpricks of red light inside the dark interior of the helmet. "Thought you were gonna behave dis time," He stated sternly, his own red-on-black eyes darkening.

Inside the helmet, the girl shot back a mischievous grin, answering, "I did behave. Just ask_ Tante_ and _Grand-père_. I been a little angel."

"You stole a suit of armor," Remy fired back, seriously wishing he hadn't sounded so impressed and proud.

Even though it was hard to tell while she was wearing said suit, the girl shrugged, claiming, "I got bored."

With a deep sigh, Remy pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to count to ten. It was almost as if he could feel more gray hairs growing and definitely needed a distraction from the unruly child before him.

When he noticed her cousin trying to casually climb back out to the window, Remy realized he had found that something. "Freeze," The man ordered, halting the burly redhead in his tracks. Very slowly Christien "_Élan_" Benoit turned around, his freckled face and wide blue eyes frozen in an expression of nervous apprehension. Rather big for his age, he was nowhere near the criminal mastermind that Juliette was. True, she usually dragged him along for the ride and he always had fun, but he never could handle himself when they got caught. He just didn't have the ice in his veins necessary for staring down obvious guilt without so much as flinching.

"Mornin, Cousin Remy," The boy greeted, slouching sheepishly and not standing up to his full, massive height of seven feet, three inches (and still growing), "Uh... you're home early."

"Dat I am, _Élan_," Remy politely replied, folding his arms over his broad chest as he fixed the redhead with a stern stare, "Your parents know where you are?"

Keeping his eyes on the floor, Christien shook his head, large saucer ears sticking out from his shaggy ginger hair on either side. Remy smirked, watching the boy fidget nervously. He was going to have some fun.

The mutant casually flipped a sleek black slider from his pocket, hitting number five on the speed dial and trying his hardest not to laugh outright as Christien began to visibly panic.

"_'Ello_?" A sleepy voice on the other end of the line answered after a handful of rings. "Ey, Lapin," Remy chuckled, "You got any idea where your boy is dis morning?"

He heard his cousin groan and shift around before replying in a tired growl, "_If you're calling me dis damn early, I'm gonna have to guess not in his bed where he fucken should be_."

"Dat doesn't even begin to cover it," Remy laughed dryly, still closely observing Christien, the large boy looking like he might faint at any second. "Turn on de news," He instructed, fixing his daughter with an accusatory glare. Even without being able to see because of the face mask on her helmet, Remy instinctively knew that she was grinning like a maniac.

After a few moments of anchor chatter, he could hear the story coming through the line and it didn't take long for Lapin to begin grumbling swear words under his breath. Remy heard Lucille groggily order him to watch his mouth and couldn't help smirking. "_Your daughter is a bad influence_," The browbeaten thief ranted, still sounding tired but shuffling about to dress, "_Christien is just a poor, simple boy being led astray by dat crafty little hellion_..._ aheh, she's wearing de suit, ain't she?_"

"Aw, hear dat, Jules?" Remy teased, "You're predictable."

"Am not!" The girl pouted, trying and failing to fold her gauntlet-clad arms over the bulky breastplate.

Shaking his head, Remy asked, "You gonna come for breakfast and asskickings?"

"Oui," The other man replied, Remy hearing several loud thumps that seemed to suggest he'd fallen over while trying to put on his pants. "_Be over in a few minutes_," Lapin ground out, "_Save me some bacon_... _hey, how'd dey get to de museum?_"

The pit of Remy's stomach dropped out. "Don't know yet," He answered, staring at his armored daughter in shock, "But I intend to find out. See you soon, Lapin."

After a grunt of goodbye from his cousin, the auburn-haired thief hung up the phone and ordered, "Jules, take dat thing off."

"I can't," She replied, futilely swinging her arms in order to demonstrate the poor range of motion they were offered. With a deep sigh, Remy stepped forward to help, unclipping several rows of hooks before carefully pulling the large metal helmet off his daughter's horned head.

A long wave of sleek black hair tumbled down her back, tangled and slightly frizzed. The girl was smiling, her smile innocent and playful and bright. It had been said many times about Juliette LeBeau that her beautiful smile could get her out of just about anything.

Even if that something happened to be hatred or fear for her smoldering red-on-black eyes and the bony red horns that grew out of her pale forehead. She had been called a demon and worse, but she could always seem to either win people over with her smile and charm, or simply let the insults roll off her back. The opinions of others had never mattered much to the girl. At times she gave the impression she was incapable of even understanding that she was an object of horror to some.

Remy had been worried about how hard it would be for his daughter to grow up with such an obvious mutation. He had had one himself and he remembered the teasing, and bullying, and staring, the whispered _le Diable Blanc_'s. The thief was immensely proud of the way Juliette handled herself. His baby was poised and confident, funny and smart, sweet and adorable.

However, despite the fact that she was sweet and adorable, she was _not_ going to get out of this one.

"You put dat smile away, _cher_," Remy stated, fixing her with a stern gaze. "I'm only gonna ask dis once," He went on, mostly unaffected by her innocent pout, "How did you and Élan get to de museum?"

Right on cue, the front door slammed open and a gruff voice shrieked, "WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS DAT LITTLE BRAT? JULES, I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!"

Juliette flashed her father an apprehensive smirk, realizing that in the bulky armor she could not run from the young man currently stomping up the stairs and intent on hurting her. "Uh," She answered, slowly shuffling towards the closet to hide, "I _may_ have borrowed Nico and Simon's truck..."

"Dere you are!!" Seventeen-year-old Simon LeBeau growled as he suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was tall and still skinny, but quite intimidating when his pale face flushed red with anger and his hard fists were clenched and shaking at his sides. Intensive training had given him enough lean muscle to be considered quite hot by most of the female population of his school. After he finally convinced his mother to let him buzz off his effeminate blonde curls, he started having to beat the women off with a stick. He was good-looking and knew it.

"I didn't hurt her!" His baby cousin hotly asserted, standing in the middle of the room wearing... a suit of armor? The sight threw him long enough for the cute little mutant to plead, "She's parked around de block, with a full tank of gas! I even changed de oil!"

"You stole my truck!!" Simon snarled, so fixated on Juliette and her accomplice that he wasn't even aware that his Uncle Remy was in the room, leaning back and smirking as he watched the show. "You are thirteen, Jules!!" The irate boy continued, reaching out to grab Christien by the back of his t-shirt as he tried to once again casually climb out the window. The aptly nicknamed _Élan_ already had more height and bulk than his older cousin, but he was nowhere near as scary. He gulped and tried to draw as little attention as possible.

"Thirteen year olds do not drive!!" Simon continued to rant down at the girl, pushing Élan into the ratty purple armchair in the corner, "You don't have a license and how de hell did you even reach de pedals, shrimp?"

"Hey," She pouted, looking rather insulted, "I'll have you know I can reach 'em just fine! And I'm a great driver! Been driving since I was-" Wide-eyed, realizing she was about to make things far worse, the girl swiftly cut herself off.

"Do you have any idea how much danger you put Christien and yourself into?" Her big cousin continued to rant, his voice significantly softer but still angry, "You could've been in an accident! You could've been killed! You do not know enough about driving to be out at night!! By yourself!! And especially not in _my_ truck!!"

She looked up at him sadly, those sparkling rubies she called eyes glowing deep. Simon was mesmerized within seconds, barely conscious of how furious he was that Juliette could always break him with just one kicked-puppy pout. "I'm sorry, Si," The girl offered weakly, fidgeting guiltily inside her suit of armor, "I won't take it again without asking."

"Well... uh..." The blonde gaped, still unaware that his uncle was only a few feet behind him and laughing at the entire display, "Ya. See that you don't... what are you wearing?"

The brilliant smile flashed once more across his baby cousin's angelic face as she proudly answered, "Fifteenth-century Italian tournament armor. Me and Élan stole it."

Smirking, Simon laughed and shook his head, inquiring, "Any particular reason why?"

"Bastards banned me from de museum again!" Juliette cried out indignantly.

Still unable to stop laughing, Simon asked, "What for dis time, _petite_?"

Obviously upset over the incident, the horned mutant plainly answered, "Just de usual, following around a field trip group and correcting de tour guide a few times."

"And..." Simon pressed knowing his baby cousin well enough to know that there was more to the story.

"And calling one of de curators a brainless hack," She admitted quite happily.

Simon smiled, again prompting, "And..."

Juliette grinned and answered, "And standing in de main lobby screaming that de baby was his."

The blonde's face darkened. "Dat ain't even funny," He insisted, fighting a small smirk despite the assertion.

"No, it ain't," Remy emphatically cut in, finally making Simon aware of his presence. The teenager smiled nervously at his tall, muscular uncle, uncertainty written all over his sharp features. "Hey, Uncle Remy," He greeted, absentmindedly scratching his closely-cropped blonde hair.

"Hey, Simon," The thief answered, smiling proudly at his nephew. It was nice to see that he cared so much about Juliette, "Gonna stay for breakfast?"

"_Oui_," The boy stated, smirking at Christien and Juliette, "I wouldn't miss dis one for de world."

xxXxx

Despite knowing that it was not the proper reaction, Jean-Luc could not hide how ridiculously proud he was of his young granddaughter. Sure, she was more unruly than a room full of gators and had quite the mouth on her--not that he expected anything less from a child of Remy's, genetics be damned--but Juliette LeBeau was brave, bold, brilliant, and just about the best thief he'd seen in all his years. He knew that if she could pull this kind of museum job at the age of thirteen, planned all on the fly and with only one accomplice, then she really had a promising career of crime ahead of her.

"But why a suit of armor?" Nicolas laughed, carefully inspecting the stamped iron shin guard where it was set on the floor of the living room. His eldest grandson shot Juliette a wide smile, his piercing blue eyes open and amused.

"Why not?" The girl snickered in reply, fidgeting as Tante brushed the tangles out of her long black hair.

"Good answer, _petite_," Jean-Luc chuckled, sitting back with his coffee and paper--the crimes of the father and daughter competed for print space on the front page.

Nicolas shook his head at both of them, the stocky teenager casually brushing brown fringe out of his eyes and commenting to his father, "Am I missing something? Isn't it generally de idea to go for something small and easy to carry?"

"Ya," Henri replied, brown eyes warm and impressed as he carefully examined the heavy black helmet, "But I think dis was your baby cousin getting some revenge on those who wronged her. No better way to do dat den rob and humiliate 'em. A three hundred pound suit of armor disappearing right out from under dere noses does de trick." The father and son shared brief smirks.

Jean-Luc was continually amazed by just how much his grandson took after Henri. They had the same broad, muscular, slightly short bodies and the same rich brown hair. They could almost be mistaken for twins if the elder hadn't sported the beginnings of wrinkles on his handsome, friendly face and the younger hadn't had his mother's intense blue eyes.

"I don' know why you're all congratulating de chile," Tante scolded tightly, yanking on Juliette's hair just a little too hard as she forced it into a neat plait, "She still snuck out of de house, stole a car, and drove it without a license. Her hide is in serious need of a tannin."

"Jules drove good," Christien insisted, earning a glare from his own half-asleep father as Lapin slurped down some sorely-needed high-octane caffeine.

"Jules drove _well_," Anatole absently corrected, the brunette lazily sprawled over the couch and not even bothering to look up from his book. The fifteen-year-old was a little small for his age, but very bright. His green eyes were soft behind the lenses of his thick black glasses, darting quickly over the pages of his latest novel. His features were still very boyish, his eyes too big for his head, and his dark, unkempt hair in need of a trim, but Ani LeBeau played the part of the cute nerd very _well_.

Rolling his eyes, Christien grumbled, "Dat's what I said. And she drives better den Simon anyways-"

"Ey," The blonde in question snapped, flicking his young cousin sharply in the back of the head as he entered the living room with a plate of eggs, "Don't be insulting my driving."

"Wasn't," Christien replied, frowning at the older boy as Simon joined his father and brother in inspecting the treasure on the floor, "I'm just saying. At least she stopped at all de stop signs and never took her eyes of de road-"

"Dat was_ one time_!" Simon growled, blushing furiously as all his family chuckled at the memory, "And it wasn't my fault! Her skirt blew up and she wasn't wearin' a stitch beneath! How could I _not_ look?"

"Relax, _petite frère_," Nico snickered, still crouched down low over the stolen armor, "I doubt you're the first _homme_ to ever be pulled over by de cops sporting a raging hard-on."

"Language!" Tante scolded, dropping the hairbrush and clasping her hands over Juliette's ears. "What is wrong wit you?" The old woman growled, very mindful of the giggling little girl seated between her knees, "Don't you let me hear you talk like that wit yo' baby cousin in the room, Nicolas LeBeau! I'll wash out dat foul mouth o' yours!"

"Yes, Tante," The boy sighed dejectedly, winking at Juliette as she continued to snicker. He did love his baby cousin and didn't want to be inappropriate, but she was like one of the guys. Ever since she could walk, she'd been following him and his brothers around, playing their games, sharing their stories, cracking their jokes. She was a tomboy in every sense of the word and he wouldn't have her any other way.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't be entertained when his _mère_, Cousin Lucille, Tante, or Uncle Remy's flavor-of-the-month tried to encourage her to be more girlie. Their last attempt had ended with little Jules earning herself a lifetime ban from a fancy department store. "_If dey don't want people to ride mannequins down de escalators_," He remembered his cousin declaring with an absolutely straight face that made the situation hundreds of times more hilarious, "_Den dey should put up signs or something!_"

Jules had always been a spirited child. She was only expected to grow more so as she progressed further into her teenage years.

"_Merde_," Christien suddenly shouted, leaping to his feet, "We gotta go! School starts in ten minutes!"

"Aw, hell," Simon grunted, joining the flurry of activity as all five children rushed to put their book bags together and get to the car. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, the squeal of tires heralding their exit.

Remy had been sitting in the corner during the entire exchange, silently observing his family with a smile on his face. Lapin glanced at his cousin and smirked, asking, "Ey, Remy. You decided on a punishment for ya kid stealing a car?"

The Prince of Thieves grinned impishly, announcing, "I get de feeling an afternoon of shopping with Mercy and Lucille will do de trick... we just gotta make sure dey keep to one-storied stores."

Lapin smirked, laughing, "Like dat'll stop her."

xxXxx

"Hurry up, Jules!" Christien Benoit called over his shoulder as he ran to beat the tardy bell. He could see his cousin a few yards behind in the hallway, stopped to tie her shoe.

"I'm comin," The girl called in reply, finally standing back up and carefully adjusting the chic black shades she wore to protect her sensitive eyes from the sun. She had a red baseball cap turned backwards on her head, holes cut raggedly into the front in order to let her horns through. Despite having it fixed by Tante not even ten minutes earlier, her long black hair was already slipping from its abused braid and hanging wild around her angelic face. He recognized the tattered green t-shirt she was wearing as one of Simon's old ones, the baggy material doing little for her skinny prepubescent body. Her long legs were covered in faded denim, both the knees ripped out. All in all, Christien decided that Jules looked very... Jules that day.

The redhead forced himself to focus, picking up his speed and sprinting the last few yards to his homeroom. He managed to make it to his seat just as the bell rang and breathed a sigh of relief. As he was panting and wiping the sweat off his forehead, the boy discovered that Juliette still hadn't arrived. That was not good.

A few moments later, his cousin appeared in the doorway, frowning thoughtfully and easily dodging a spitwad aimed at her head. Unaffected, she casually took her usual seat in front of Christien and grumbled, "Did all dis rushing to be on time and Mr. H ain't even here yet." Indeed, when the redhead glanced towards the front of the room he found it empty. "Huh," He panted breathlessly, "Dat's lucky."

Shortly later, the riotous din of excited chatter was interrupted when stern, gray-haired Mr. Harrison entered the room with a nervous tanned brunette boy at his side. "Ey, quiet down!" The old man snapped, finding silence in just a few moments. "We have a new student," He went on, almost disinterestedly, "His name is William Sweet."

"Billy, sir," The boy interrupted sheepishly, his intense green eyes on the floor.

"Ya, whatever," The teacher continued, "Anyone want to volunteer to show him around school today?"

Juliette's hand shot into the air.

Mr. Harrison rolled his eyes, groaning, "Anyone _else_?"

"Love you, too, Mr. H," The girl sang sweetly.

"Fine," The man conceded, fighting off a smirk as he waved Billy over into an empty desk on Juliette's left, "But no funny business, Jules. I mean it."

"Hi," The girl chirped, ignoring Mr. Harrison's threats as she turned to smile at the boy seated beside her. She offered a small hand as she introduced, "I'm Juliette LeBeau, but you can call me Jules. Where you from, Billy?"

"California," He answered shyly, fidgeting in his seat as his brown hair fell into his eyes, "Just moved here with my dad."

"Dat's really cool," Juliette replied, still smiling at the boy. "Oh," She stated, turning her seat to gesture at the behemoth redhead behind her, "Dis is my cousin, Christien Benoit."

"Hey," The bulky redhead greeted, nodding stoically before going back to listening to Mr. Harrison drone on about Renaissance literature.

"Hi," Billy answered quietly, still keeping his eyes down, seeming to be intent on disappearing into his chair.

Juliette chuckled at the boy's behavior, announcing, "Nobody's gonna bite, you know." When he perked up just a little bit and got his gaze to come to about her chin, revealing thick-lashed, startling violet eyes, the girl went on, "Trust me, everyone's real nice. As long as you don't got nothing growing out of your forehead, dey'll like you right away."

Billy's shocking violet eyes made it up to the red bony horns on Jules' forehead and he managed not to look too surprised. "And even den," She joked with a warm smile, peering impishly over the top of her black shades to let Billy see the glowing red of her eyes, "It would only take a week or so for most to warm up."

Realizing what the friendly girl was saying, William Sweet managed a shy smile. Beneath the desk, he very discreetly conjured a bolt of lightning into the palm of his hand.

xxXxx

"Jules!" Mr. Harrison shouted to the young girl as she bolted from his classroom with the new student in tow.

"Ya?" She asked impatiently, bouncing on the balls of her feet and obviously anxious to leave. Walter Harrison smiled, asking, "You're auditioning after school today, right?"

The youngest LeBeau made a face, declaring, "Dat depends on what play you picked dis time. I ain't doing another _Romeo and Juliet_. I hate being typecast. It's not my fault Papa named me after his favorite Shakespearean bimbo."

The old English and Drama teacher chuckled, assuring his favorite leading lady, "Nah, not after your daddy threatened to sue if we let you kiss 'that Romeo hoodlum.' We're doing _MacBeth_."

"Ooo," The raven-haired teen cooed dreamily, "I always wanted to do dat one... ok, I'm in. See you there, Mr. H."

Shaking his head as he watched her drag the confused new boy from the room, Walter Harrison began to really look forward to this term's production.

"You a mutant, too?" Juliette hissed excitedly as she pulled Billy down the hallways to the math class they happened to share. Still a little apprehensive, the brunette gave a sheepish nod. Juliette had to work hard to keep herself from doing a back-flip out of happiness. "Dat's awesome!" She squealed, almost running over a herd of seventh graders, "Dere ain't dat many other mutants around here, and de only ones I know of are way older den me! And you got powers already, too! What all can you do with 'em?"

"Um..." Billy answered, trying to keep his voice down and very aware that they were walking through a public place, "I mostly just zap stuff. I've already blown up three TV's... on accident..."

Jules giggled into her hand, offering, "Dat sucks, but at least you can actually do something. So far, I'm just freaky-looking."

"I like the way you look," The boy was quick to defend, too quick because he blushed scarlet, his voice cracking shrilly as he hastily amended, "I mean, you're... uh... unique."

"_Merci_," Jules responded, happily disturbed to find herself also blushing as her stomach did its own back-flips deep inside her gut.

Later, the LeBeau's would all claim that the whole fiasco began and ended with a no-good surfer boy named Billy Sweet. Juliette knew it was really the back-flip that was to blame.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Woo. Good stuff. I know you're probably growing sick of the OC's by now, but I swear that's the last one for awhile... I think... at least ones that I haven't already introduced. And I'm half in love with Billy already. I've written ahead a bit so you'll see why soon.

Ya, so, anyways, hope yal liked this installment and there will be much more to come but don't expect anything until this weekend is over. Halloween gets pretty epic here and I don't plan on having many faculties about me until, let's just say, November.

Reviews will help me not get caught at all the bad things I plan to do this weekend! Help a sister out!


	6. Part 6: Come, Gentle Night

Part 6 - Come, Gentle Night

"Jules?" Nico questioned, watching from the kitchen bar in his grandfather's manor as his baby cousin tore apart the cabinet under the sink. "Jules?" He called again, finally managing to draw her attention away from her little project. The eighteen-year-old grinned and shoveled a fork of potatoes into his mouth as he asked the frowning girl, "What you looking for, _petite_?"

Huffing impatiently, Juliette went back to the search as she casually answered, "Box of rubbers."

Simultaneously, Nicolas, Simon, and Anatole LeBeau all spit their half-chewed mouthfuls of breakfast clear across the room.

"W-What?" Nico demanded, still trying to stop coughing but better off than Simon and Ani, who were both choking and struggling desperately to breathe. Glancing briefly out of the cabinet, Juliette repeated nonchalantly, "Box of rubbers. I was gonna give it to Billy. I think he'll need dem today. I know Tante keeps hers under here..."

Simon fell clean off his stool, gasping and convulsing on the ground. Had he been able to draw air into his lungs, he would've tracked down and murdered the notorious "Billy" right that second... and then thoroughly scrubbed his brain and never been able to look Tante in the eye again.

"Aha!" The girl triumphantly shouted, jumping to her feet and proudly displaying a box of bright yellow rubber dish gloves. Upon seeing the strange state of her cousins, she frowned and asked, "Ey, what's wrong wit you?"

"Jules!" Simon ground out, slowing getting back onto his stool and now wearing an expression of pure fury all over his sharp features, "Dat _ain't_ funny!!"

"What ain't?" The young mutant asked, visibly confused. Juliette was a phenomenal actress, the fact that she'd gotten the lead in every school play since kindergarten--that year's upcoming production of _Macbeth_ included--testimony to her abilities, but Nico, Simon, and Ani knew her well enough to tell that her puzzlement was genuine. All three blushed up to their ears.

"Just..." Nico gaped helplessly, at a completely loss for what to do, "Just go get in de truck, Jules."

"I wanna know what ain't funny about a box of rubbers!" She demanded, annoyed at being left out of the loop.

"GET IN DE DAMN TRUCK!!" Simon shouted, still red-faced from some combination of anger and embarrassment.

The girl's glowing eyes narrowed dangerously. "Fine," She declared, grabbing her backpack and "box of rubbers" off the counter before stomping out of the house.

"_Merde_," Nico groaned as soon as Juliette was gone, letting his head drop to slam loudly against the marble bar-top, "Dat was horrifying... now I know why Uncle Remy's hair's goin gray..."

"I can't decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing dat Jules doesn't know what rubbers are," Ani declared clinically, looking a little faint.

Giving the golden blonde stubble growing from the top of his skull a violent, frustrated scratch, Simon frowned and snapped, "She's _thirteen_. She'd better damn well not _need_ to know."

"Let's just getting going," Nico grumbled, the brunette bussing his breakfast dishes and grabbing his car keys from the counter, "Where's Christien?"

"Already at school," Anatole reminded for the third time that morning, fiddling with his black-rimmed glasses, "He's getting extra credit for helping to set up de computer lab for some project his grade is doing today... and Jules is staying late for play practice, so Uncle Remy is picking her up and taking her to Guild training."

"Ok," Nico stated, leading the trek out to the red four-door pick-up truck he and Simon shared. It was his week with it, so Si was a bit testy... well, more than usual anyways...

Juliette was waiting in the back seat, her glowing eyes protected behind dark shades and a cranky pout situated on her sweet face. Her thin arms were crossly folded over her flat chest and the old Batman t-shirt she wore.

Simon sighed, gesturing for Ani to take the front seat as he climbed in beside their grumpy cousin. "Jules," He stated quietly, slipping his arm around her bony shoulders and tugging her unresponsive body into his side. Nico was just starting up the truck when Simon offered, "I'm sorry for yelling at you. Forgive me?"

The little girl sighed, leaning into her big cousin's lean chest and conceding, "_Oui_. Guess it's not your fault dat you're such an asshole. You was just born dat way."

Chuckling warmly at the mutant's brashness, Simon tugged her closer and laid a sweet kiss on her pale forehead. They sat the rest of the ride in perfectly relaxed silence.

xxXxx

"Jules, I look like an idiot," Billy Sweet hissed nervously as he followed a skinny, raven-haired girl down the hallway of his middle school. During the three months that he'd been in Louisiana, Juliette LeBeau had quickly become his best friend. She was funny, and bold, and smart, and didn't give a damn about what other people thought of her.

He wished he could be more like her, then he wouldn't feel so foolish about the way all the other students were staring at the yellow rubber dish gloves he wore on both his hands.

The petite mutant smiled at him over her slim shoulder, teasing, "Would you rather look like an idiot of blow up your computer? And before you answer, you should know dat Élan is very protective of his babies."

Billy fought a smirk, both relaxing and growing more nervous all at the same time as he watched Juliette walking in front of him. That had been happening more and more, he realized. The boy found himself just watching her quite a lot and didn't quite know what to make of it. "Alright," He grumbled good-naturedly, "But I still don't think anyone's gonna buy that I have a germ phobia. The whole school saw me jump into a mud puddle to pull you off that Chevy chick."

Jules snickered prettily, holding open the door of the computer lab for her newest friend. "_Chevelier_," She corrected before declaring, "And de bitch had it coming! She shoulda known dat makin fun of Élan makes problems with me!"

The brunette chuckled, stepping into the busy room as he asked, "What's that name you always call him? _Élan_? What's that mean?"

"Oh," She laughed, leading the way to a pair of monitors near the back corner, "_Élan _is 'moose.' It's been his nickname ever since he was born... he was a big _bébé_."

"Talking about me again, Jules?" The redhead in question laughed as he ambled up behind his small cousin. She smirked straight up at him, brightly countering, "'Course not, _Élan_. Just giving Billy a much overdue French lesson."

"Aheh," The tall teen chuckled, playfully ruffling Juliette's neat pigtails, "Dat's good, and maybe de surfer boy will teach you some California lingo."

Billy frowned, annoyed at having to once again assert, "I'm not a surfer. I'm from Barstow, dude."

"Whatever you say, _homme_," Christien laughed, handing both shorter teens a packet of papers, "Dis is de assignment. I'll be around if you need any help, but it's nothing strenuous. He pulled a CD envelope out of his pocket and discreetly slipped it to his grinning cousin, winking as he whispered, "Been working on a little something. In case you get bored."

The girl quickly glanced at the handwritten label and squealed, jumping up to hug the much larger teen as she cooed, "Ooo! I love ya, Christien!" Before he could reply, the horned mutant grabbed Billy by the wrist and dragged him over to their computers.

xxXxx

An unscheduled fire drill freed the students of Crescent City Middle School for lunch two hours early. A very smug Juliette LeBeau decided to use the time to visit her big cousins at Acadiana High right across the street.

Sneaking in was no big feat for the Princess of Thieves, her redheaded cousin, and the uncertain "surfer boy" they dragged along, nor was paging Nico, Simon, and Ani out of their respective classes. When the three young men arrived in the parking lot to find Jules seated on the hood of their red pick-up truck, giggling as she watched Christien hold an unfamiliar brunette upside-down by the ankle, not one could keep from smiling.

"Ey, _petite_," Nico laughed, snatching Juliette down from her perch and easily tossing her into the air a few times before giving her a tight hug, "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Conveniently-timed fire drill," She snickered mischievously, "Thought you guys might want to take us out somewhere for lunch to celebrate Christien's latest hacking success."

"And what makes you think dat?" Simon teased, pulling on the end of one of her disheveled pigtails.

Jules pouted, sweetly arguing, "Because you love me." Simon frowned at her, melting in an instant as he grumbled, "Not fair to use dat one." The girl beamed, chirping, "Unfair but effective. So how 'bout it? Pizza?"

Still chuckling as he bent down and tilted his head to observe the upside-down boy, whose tanned, skinny stomach was exposed by his flipped blue t-shirt, Nico conceded, "Anything you want, _petite_, but ain't you gonna introduce us to your friend?"

"Oh, uh, hi," Billy gulped uncertainly, very aware that he must look stupid with all his hair sticking straight down, his face flushed red, and his whole torso bare as Christien continued to hold him over the pavement. Hell, he had no idea how he'd even ended up in the position... Still, he offered his hand and stated, "I'm Billy, Billy Sweet."

"Nicolas LeBeau," The older teen stated with an easy smile, giving the inverted boy's hand an awkward shake. "Ouch!" He yelped, immediately pulling back when he got a painful shock. Unfortunately, Christien felt it as well and was startled into dropping Billy straight onto his head.

"Sorry!" Billy squeaked, attempting to jump up but dizzily falling right back over. After giving up regaining any balance in the near future, the brunette looked at Nico and sheepishly stated, "I'm really sorry! I couldn't help it!"

Flexing his tingling fingers, Nico just laughed, soothing, "S'ok. No harm done... er, at least not to me. Your head ok?"

"Ya, I think so," Billy replied, rubbing a growing lump on his skull as he finally managed to stand with the help of Christien and Juliette. He stumbled a bit and ended up grabbing onto the slightly shorter girl's shoulders for support. No one noticed the deadly flash in Simon's eyes.

"Well alright den," Nico brightly declared, unlocking the truck and then gesturing to each of his younger brothers, "Dese two are Anatole and Simon. Now, I know dat dey ain't quite as handsome as _moi_, but try not to be too disappointed."

"Haha," Simon bit back sarcastically, giving the burlier but slightly shorter young man a swift punch in the arm, "Recent polls seem to suggest dat _I'm_ de good-looking one, so quit kidding yourself."

"I dunno," Jules teased, sighing dreamily as she leaned her head down onto Anatole's thin shoulder, "Everyone I ask says Ani's cutest. I think it's de glasses." Squirming uncomfortably, the small, lanky fifteen-year-old tried to hide a slight smile as he blushed at his baby cousin.

"Ya, right," Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes as he stomped towards the truck, "Jules, tell your friend he's riding in de bed."

She frowned, asking, "Why?"

"Not enough seats," The blonde replied, not even trying to sound broken up by the fact.

"I can sit on Christien's lap," Jules declared, still making a face at Simon, "Sharing seatbelts is safer than someone not getting one."

"Not cramming six people into a car meant for five is safer den sharing seatbelts," He grumbled, venomously staring Billy down. The boy gulped, but reluctantly followed Jules into the truck.

xxXxx

At seven-thirty that evening, Remy LeBeau was waiting patiently in his black Jaguar in the parking lot of his daughter's middle school. Her play practice was supposed to be over at seven, but she always stuck around longer talking to her drama friends so the relaxed man didn't expect her for at least another ten minutes. It was alright though; he'd wait forever and was looking forward to being able to spend some quality time with her.

Jules was fairly popular amongst her more open-minded peers. Considering she was a mutant, the child was practically a prom queen. Remy still often worried about the small amount of harassment she did face on a regular basis, but the spunky girl had never once shown any sign of being affected by it in the least bit so he just had to trust in her strength and will.

His finely-tuned sense of empathy instantly picked up on the girl approaching from the theater at the other side of the campus, her long skinny legs pumping fast as she enthusiastically rushed towards him. She had always been very difficult for him to read, but never impossible. They were far too close for that.

"Papa!" The girl happily called, jumping into the passenger seat and proudly handing over a play bill, "Look! We got dese in today! Ain't dey great!"

Smiling, the mutant turned the thin pamphlet over in his calloused hands, proudly reading aloud, "'_Macbeth_, starring David Farmer as Macbeth and Juliette LeBeau as Lady Macbeth.' Congratulations, _petite_! You're a star!"

The teen giggled, feigning shyness and Remy leaned over to kiss her forehead, deeply breathing in the heavenly scent of his baby girl. He had always loved how she smelled, clean and beautiful and full of hope.

He started up the car and drove out onto the street, listening to his daughter chatter happily about the play, and school, and her friends. She went into great detail about having lunch that day with her cousins and some boy named Billy, how Simon acted like a cranky bastard the entire time but everyone still had lots of fun teaching her new Californian friend how to swear in French.

Even though he knew he shouldn't, Remy found himself continually glancing away from the road to admire the crisp play bill his daughter had presented him with. He had one from every show she'd ever been in, even the one from in which she was only cast as a tree during preschool. He had them all in a neat booklet at home, coupled with videos and fond memories of watching from the front row as his little Juliette performed. The Prince of Thieves was very much looking forward to watching his Princess outshine the sun yet again.

But his eyes finally found the date of the production and his heart dropped.

"_Merde_!" He suddenly swore, looking back up at the road, finding himself staring down headlights from the opposite lane. Swerving away from oncoming traffic, Remy heard his daughter give a startled little scream as she hid her face behind her hands. His free hand darted out to aid the safety belt in keeping his precious girl in her seat. They spun out of control.

After a brief moment of uncontrolled spiraling and panic, the car was left idling on the side of the road. Remy almost immediately began to wheeze and gasp as the stress and fear triggered his asthma. For seemingly the millionth time since his Antarctic exile, his throat and lungs slammed shut; he cursed the X-Men to hell.

Juliette was well-aware of her father's asthma and well-versed in what to do when he had attacks. "Relax, Papa," She instructed, unable to keep her voice from trembling despite her outward calm. The girl hurriedly opened the glove box, hands shaking as she fumbled through the papers and finally snatched up an inhaler. She shoved it into Remy's mouth.

His breathing was so shallow that he got virtually no medicine, the thief going pale and then slightly blue as he silently gaped for air.

Without another second's hesitation, Jules grabbed his cell out of the pocket of his jeans. "It's ok, Papa," She soothed, lovingly kneading his heaving shoulders as she dialed 911, "Just go slow and concentrate on my voice. I'm right here and I ain't letting nothing happen to you... 'ello! I need an ambulance on Canal Street! We sitting in a black Jag at the de side of de road and my papa can't breathe!"

xxXxx

Juliette LeBeau had always hated hospitals. Even before she knew what they were, when she was far too young to realize where she was, bringing the girl into a hospital was a sure way to get her to scream bloody murder. It was just some combination of the sterile smell, and the harsh lights, and the knowledge that people were dying all around her. Some innate aversion was probably somewhere in the mix.

At thirteen, she knew that screaming was immature and fruitless so had to settle for anxious filing her already blunt red fingernails as she waited for news on her father's condition. It had been nearly six hours since the ambulance brought him in. No one would tell her anything, the nurses had threatened to have her removed if she didn't leave them alone, and she had been unable to reach any family or Guild members. The antiseptic odor and blinding fluorescent lighting were making her physically ill, and it was taking every ounce of self control she had to not break down crying. She couldn't stop shaking.

"EY! JULES!" A blessedly familiar voice called as the automatic door of the ER waiting room slid open. The girl turned just in time to see her cousins Emile and Theo Benoit come barreling for her. She hardly expected the twins, the twenty-nine-year-olds usually very busy working full-time as thieves and trainers for the Guild, but she was glad that at least _someone_ had gotten one of the seemingly hundreds of messages she'd left.

Theo was the first to reach the LeBeau baby, his dark hair in disarray and his green eyes intensely focused as he easily scooped her right out of the uncomfortable plastic chair in which she'd been sitting. She immediately wrapped her strong arms and legs around his body and showed no signs of letting go.

"You ok, _petite_?" Emile questioned kindly, rubbing her back as she struggled not to sob into his twin's shoulder. It was hardly the first time Remy had been rushed to the hospital in the last thirteen years, but it was the first time that his daughter sat in the waiting room alone for so long.

Still hiding her face in Theo's neck but trying hard not to stab him with her horns, the girl gave a hesitant nod. "Dey won't tell me anything!" She sniffed, her voice muffled and tense with pent up fear as her small body trembled uncontrollably, "Won't even let me see him! He's been in dere for hours! It ain't supposed to take dis long!"

"I'm sure he's fine," Theo comforted, silently motioning Emile towards the admit desk while he rocked their obviously distraught and emotionally exhausted young cousin, "Always is... shhh, _petite_. You did just fine getting him here. You been real brave, now just go ahead and let it all out."

Squeezing the burly man tightly around his neck, Jules did just that, immediately bursting into hysterical tears as she prayed desperately for her father to be alright.

xxXxx

About twenty minutes later, when the girl's ruby-on-onyx eyes were mostly dry and Theo's orange t-shirt was very wet, when she was still shaking slightly but trying her hardest to stay awake, Emile finally returned from doing what he did best: annoying the hell out of people until they gave into his demands just to have the dark-haired Cajun off their backs.

"_Bien-aime_," He called hesitantly, combing Jules' disheveled black bangs away from her tear-stained face. Emile smiled at the hopeful gleam in her eyes as he stated, "Your _père_ is fine. It took a long time cuz he was allergic to one of de drugs dey gave him to get him breathing again. He's stable and dey got him sedated, but you can go in now, ok?"

Unable to find the voice she was so seldom without, the petite teen gave a silent nod and let Theo carry her down a long white hallway. She was so tired, and the light and smells were starting to make her nauseas, but there was no way she was going anywhere while her father was ill. As soon as they arrived at the room, Theo set her down onto her unsteady legs, gently pushing her towards the hospital bed and Remy's unconscious form.

He looked so weak, she thought with her heart in her throat, nothing like the strong and lively spirit she knew her father was. His shades were gone, leaving his closed eyes exposed to the blinding light. The girl knew Remy would curse about that when he woke up, as well as about the needles in his arms. She could hear his voice already. _"Fucken vampires_,_"_ She knew he'd growl, squinting harshly as he pulled out the IV's against medical advice, _"I fall asleep and dey steal my fucken blood_. Merde, _what has de world come to?"_

A slight smile graced Juliette's features as she carefully crawled into the hospital bed as she laid her head down against her father's solid chest and listened to his strong, steady heartbeat. Before long, the girl's exhaustion claimed her.

xxXxx

"Remy, I'm sorry. It has to be you," Jean-Luc gravely reported, sitting in an extremely uncomfortable hospital chair and watching his extremely guilt-ridden son carefully maneuver himself around in his extremely uncomfortable hospital bed as he tried not to awaken the extremely pretty thirteen-year-old girl curled protectively around his chest.

Wishing a nurse--preferably a blonde, single one who was into suave mutants--would come remove all the foreign bodies from his various orifices and veins the mutant frowned. Catheters and IV's were very high on his hit right at that moment but his father would scold him if he started taking them out himself. Remy adoringly petted his daughter's disheveled black hair. "But why?" The mutant demanded, desperately hoping to not have to let down his beautiful, loving baby girl, "Dere are plenty of others you could send-"

"Buyer requested you personally," Jean-Luc answered, holding up a hand to cut off his son again when he opened his mouth to argue. "And we can't change de date," He reported, "Whole idea is to steal de files off a truck as dey're being taken to be shredded. Your window is small as it is."

Groaning miserably, Remy let his head flop back into the white starchy pillows, staring straight up into the blindingly white ceiling and cursing whatever higher power that was responsible for his latest job falling on the same night as his daughter's play. He didn't remember much from the attack the night before, but he did remember realizing the conflict just before looking up to find that his car had drifted into oncoming traffic...

The man felt worse about nearly getting into a car accident than he did from the physical aches of having been denied oxygen so long. Remy loved Juliette with all his heart. He would gladly suffer so she didn't have to, die so she could live; he tried his hardest to give her the world. But with just one stupid mistake he could have really hurt her, killed her even. The thought was utterly terrifying.

Jules stirred with a sleepy sigh, burrowing closer to Remy's body and nuzzling her cheek against his heartbeat. Instinctively, Remy's hand fell to ghost over her forehead, combing messy bangs away from her eyes and tucking them behind her small crimson horns. This time, however, he felt something that immediately made him frown.

"Jules," He prodded lightly, squirming a bit until he had enough room to lean forward and kiss her pale temple.

With a yawn, the girl slowly forced her bleary eyes to open, smiling when she saw that her father was awake and looking none the worse for wear. "Ey, Papa," She greeted tiredly, waves of relief washing over her whole body.

"Ey, _mon amour_," Remy answered, still frowning in concern as he pressed his palm to Jules' forehead, "You feel alright?"

"Feel fine, Papa," She yawned, closing her eyes and snuggling up to Remy's solid chest, "You ok?"

"_Père_," Remy ordered, getting his own father's attention, "Call one of de doctors." The man nodded, hurriedly jogging out of the room.

"Why?" Jules demanded, instantly worried again, pushing herself up to carefully run her hands over her papa's forehead in the same way he was doing to her, "You're ok, ain't you, Papa? What's de matter?" Her voice was shaking again and her hands, too.

"I'm fine, _petite_," The man soothed, his expression not growing any less somber as he locked eyes with his little girl, "But you're burning up."

xxXxx

"Stupid fucken doctors..." Juliette grumbled angrily, scratching at the itchy bandages wrapped around both her elbows as she slammed the door of Remy's Jaguar and stomped out of the garage. At her father's insistence, she spent an entire day in the hospital getting stuck over and over again with needles as half her volume of blood was stolen for testing. Aside from a temperature of 105 degrees, the doctors found absolutely nothing wrong with her. In fact, the girl was deemed to be an absolutely perfect specimen of health and fitness.

Her father had then proceeded to yell at a room full of highly trained and educated specialists, demanding that they use "all dose damn fancy machines" on his baby. Jules was forced to endure full-body CT and PET scans, as well as an MRI. All they confirmed was the fact that she did indeed have an abnormally thick skull. The girl dreaded her cousins finding out; they would undoubtedly tease her forever now that their favorite theory had been given scientific validation.

So by the time she and Remy made it back to Jean-Luc's mansion, it was late, she'd missed play practice after being informed that her father would not actually be able to attend the final production, she'd barely gotten any sleep the night before, and was annoyed and cranky about the way things were going. On top of that, Remy wouldn't let her go home, worried enough about her "condition" that he wanted her to be near Tante in case something new developed. All in all, Jules was in a Very Bad Mood.

"Ey, _petite_," Nico greeted when his baby cousin came stomping into the kitchen of his grandfather's house and violently threw open the refrigerator door. Seated at the counter with a stack of half-finished college applications, he got no reply, so, while she was distracted with inspecting the contents of the fridge, the young man quickly stalked across the room and grabbed the girl into a playful hug.

"PUT ME DE HELL DOWN!!" She screamed, viciously kicking and punching the air until the burly brunette finally obliged her. After glaring for a brief moment up into his expression of shock, hurt, and confusion, the mutant simply grabbed an entire pot of leftover gumboand stomped out of the kitchen. A few moments of silence later, still standing frozen in the same spot, Nico heard the loud slam of a door from somewhere upstairs.

Remy came into the kitchen a few seconds later, also annoyed and in a Very Bad Mood. Jules was mad at him and might possibly be sick. Nothing put a damper on the Prince of Thieves' lively personality quicker than either of those two occurrences. Together, well, it's probably not in anyone's best interest to be getting on his bad side at times like those. When he saw his eighteen-year-old nephew standing in the middle of the room wearing an expression of confusion and hurt, the mutant grunted, "Close your mouth 'fore de flies get in."

Nico's jaw snapped shut, the teen quickly muttering, "Sorry, Uncle Remy."

"Ya, whatever," The muscular, auburn-haired man grumbled, also going first to the refrigerator and frowning quite darkly when he found that the pot of gumbo Tante had promised was there...wasn't. He glared at Nicolas, dangerously demanding, "You eat my gumbo, boy?"

"No," Nico stated, trying hard not to be utterly terrified of his uncle's dark expression and smoldering demonic eyes, "Jules grabbed it."

Nico could hear the answering growl rumbling deep in the mutant's chest as Remy questioned, "All of it?" The boy nodded sheepishly. His uncle narrowed his eyes at him, like it was the completely clueless teenager's fault his little cousin had stolen the thief's dinner. Without another word, the angry mutant stomped out of the kitchen once more. After another few seconds of confused silence, another door could be heard slamming somewhere upstairs.

Nico was starting to think that he should have stayed home that night. Contending with the noise of his parents screaming at Simon for his latest failing report card would probably be a little less stressful than playing the referee between two stubborn and angry mutants.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wow. You guys have no idea how much fun I had this weekend. And, thanks to that fun, I'm now stuck inside with a cold and absolutely no voice. Meh. It's not that bad though. I'm pretty sure I made out with John Belushi, a giant breathalyzer, and WOLVERINE!!!

So, ya, I'm happy. And I'm getting this up earlier than planned since I don't drink when sick so won't be going out (not tempting fate here). Hope you all liked it, and I would really appreciate reviews. I've heard they are the best medicine.


	7. Part 7: Fortune's Fool

Part 7 - Fortune's Fool

Juliette LeBeau had never been able to stay mad at the people she loved.

That fact, while usually a source of pride for her father, had turned into his greatest anxiety because the girl had managed to stay very mad at him for nearly two weeks. She spoke to him in short grunts and snapped at anyone else brave enough to interact with the Princess of Thieves while she was in such a dark mood. The worst thing was that now he had to leave for a job, during which he would miss her school play. The master thief had always hated leaving his daughter for even the briefest amounts of time. He took her with him all over the world whenever it was possible--the girl had been on just about every continent by the time she was six--but this time it wasn't an option.

And, despite _having_ to leave, he _refused_ to leave with her still mad at him.

His guilt was horrible enough without having to leave knowing she was mad. The ranks of those able to attend her play the following night had quickly thinned out. Lucille's mother died a few days before, so she, Lapin, and Christien would be leaving tomorrow to go to Florida for the funeral. Jean-Luc, Emile, Theo, and Henri were all on separate heists on opposite corners of the world. Henri took Mercy with him to help with his cover, leaving their boys in Tante's capable hands. It would fall to those four to attend Jules' play. He just prayed that nothing else would go wrong, that no other twist of fate and poor scheduling would deny her more family on such an important night.

Remy had to have stood outside the door of the room Juliette had claimed in his father's house for at least ten minutes before he gathered the nerve to knock. Even then, he held his breath and had a brief moment when he considered just running away. "Come in," A small voice called, curt and muffled behind the thick wood. After only one more second of hesitation, Remy did just that, slowly walking into his daughter's room.

Jules was seated on the top of an ugly purple armchair in the corner, balanced perfectly on her heels as her glowing eyes darted between her algebra textbook and notebook. After a moment, she furiously scratched out about half a page of incorrect numbers and symbols. Her father found it comforting to believe that the scowl on her pretty face was directed at her least favorite subject and not at him. Normally, she knew she'd be having Nico, the resident math genius, help her, but she'd snapped at him over taking the last piece of cake so was not in a mood to be cooperate with his tuition.

On her desk, beside the duffel bag she'd been forced to live out of during the last two weeks--Remy was still worried about her mysterious fever and didn't want to risk taking her away from Tante's watchful eye--was a small laptop that was playing some relaxing acoustic guitar music from one of those young people's bands he couldn't attempt to name.

She didn't look up, not even when he stood directly in front of her and loudly cleared his throat several times. "What?" The girl finally grunted, unwilling to accept the fact that she couldn't do stupid algebra or that her father was about to leave her.

"Came to say goodbye, _mon amour_. My flight leaves in a few hours," Was his gentle answer, the man kneeling down until he was at eyelevel with Juliette, waiting patiently for his daughter to actually look at him. When she did, Remy smiled hopefully and held out a wrapped square package. "Peace offering," He stated, encouraged by the reluctant curiosity he could see in her glowing red eyes.

"What is it?" She demanded, remembering to be grumpy and suspicious and fixing her father with a stern glare for even trying to get her out of the mood with a present... even if it was nicely wrapped in shiny red foil and had a big curly bow on top...

Smiling, Remy placed the box on top of his daughter's book, banking on her curiosity as he instructed, "Well, I think de way dese things work is dat you have to open dem to find out what's inside." She scowled, small pale nose wrinkling right at the bridge as she narrowed her smoldering red eyes. Remy got the distinct impression that she was contemplating hurling the box right back at his head.

But then she grudgingly picked it up and began shredding the wrapping paper with her... whoa, since when did Jules file her bony red fingernails into such sharp, dangerous points?

Before Remy could begin worrying too much about just who his daughter was planning on using her new set of claw on, she was holding a white cardboard box with "Sony Handycam DCR-SR 100" printed on it. "A video camera?" Jules asked, her voice shaking slightly as she just stared at the impressive piece of hardware depicted.

"Digital camcorder," Her father corrected, fighting a sheepish smirk, "Christien said he'd get it set up with your computer before he leaves... so that you can send me your play... you know I'm not missing it because I want to, _mon ange_. I'd never leave your side if I could."

He watched as his girl ducked her head down, making a curtain of sleek black hair fall to veil her near-white face. Despite the fact that he really didn't like not being able to gauge her reactions anymore, Remy continued, "I'm sorry I can't be dere in person, but dat don't mean I still ain't _so_ proud of you... don't mean I love you any less..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say next. The smooth talking Cajun Casanova always had the right words, the words any woman in the world wanted to hear at the exact right moment, but when he was dealing with his daughter, those words seemed to escape him.

He heard her give a slight sniff and he was frozen with apprehension. Then, like a coiled spring, the small girl shot forward off of her perch and right into his chest. "I'm sorry, Papa!" Jules choked, squeezing her father tightly around his neck as her books tumbled to the floor, "I been a bitch!"

"Never," Remy sighed, gathering his baby girl into his arms, burying his face in her hair and deeply inhaling the heavenly, wild scent of her, "You're right to be mad. I should be dere for you, _mon coeur_."

The mutant's heart just about tore in two when Juliette sobbed loudly into his shoulder. It hurt to see his daughter cry, especially because it was such a rare occurrence. "You have to go," She whimpered, hiccupping and coughing as she quickly got a hold of herself, "I understand, Papa. A-And I love de gift. I'll make you a great video."

Closing his own eyes to fight back sudden tears, Remy squeezed her tighter and nodded his assent. He kissed her temple, noting that she still had the high fever she'd had for the past two weeks. It worried him terribly. He didn't want to go. Nothing had felt this wrong _ever_.

"_Je t'adore_," Remy sighed, pulling his girl close, "_Je t'aime_. _Je t'aime beaucoup!_" (I adore you. I love you. I love you so much!) That was it. He was going to tell his father to cancel the job. Screw this mystery customer who had to have him and only him. Just because he was a mutant didn't mean he was any more qualified than any of the other highly trained thieves who worked for the Guild.

"_Je t'aime aussi_, Papa," His girl sighed, her warm lips moving tiredly against his neck (I love you, too). For a few wonderful moments, the two onyx-eyed mutants just held each other tight, Remy silently thanking any higher power he could think of for the blessing of a daughter who loved him. Unbeknownst to him, Juliette was also thanking the Lord for her Papa.

"You have to go now," The girl finally murmured, pressing her hot forehead into the crook of his neck, "You're gonna miss your plane."

"Don't wanna go," Remy mumbled, reverently sweeping the long black hair away from Jules' face, carefully kissing her cheek before adding, "Wanna stay here with my Princess. Wanna be dere to cheer her on from de front row. She's such a star and I don't wanna miss it."

The girl gave a tired, half-hearted little laugh. She pulled away, kissing her father's cheek as she stated, "I know, Papa, but you got stuff to steal. And I'll have other plays. Don't worry so much."

"Can't help it," Remy answered, gazing reverently up into his daughter's beautiful face. It had been so long since he got a genuine smile from her that he was almost mesmerized by its brightness. "_Vous êtes mon bébé_," He found himself whispering,"_Je toujours vous aimerai_." (You are my baby. I will always love you.)

Jules smiled again, taking her father's stubbly jaw in both her thin hands as she answered, "I know, Papa. I love you, too. I'll miss you."

Almost as if he was in a trance, Remy found himself leaning forward to kiss his daughter's pale forehead once more, right between the crimson horns growing there. He got to his feet and walked out of the room.

Everything would be different when he finally saw her again and the thief spent the rest of his life kicking himself for not trusting his instincts, for ever leaving his baby girl.

xxXxx

"Simon," Jules called, so excited that she was bouncing in her seat, "Simon! Simon! Simon!"

"What?" The young man finally answered, so distracted about finally getting to drive his Uncle Remy's black Jaguar while he was away that he was having a hard time concentrating on what his little baby cousin was saying.

Laughing, the girl stated, "I told Billy we'd give him a ride today so... TURN HERE!" Almost unwillingly, Simon wrenched the steering wheel to the right, flying over three lanes of traffic before pulling a tire-squealing hairpin onto a small residential street.

His brown eyes were wide in disbelief and delayed fear as he eased his foot off the gas, gliding down a quaint row of white houses. And then... "Jules! Damnit!" He screamed, "Don't do dat! You're gonna get us killed!"

"I said 'turn'," The girl pointed out, laughing like they almost didn't just cause a twelve-car pile-up, "Why you took dat to mean 'break a million traffic laws and endanger our lives,' I have no idea. Wait, stop! Dere's Billy!" Simon slammed on the brakes, blinked curiously because he had no conscious remembrance of actually wanting to do so, and then scowled.

Before he could scold his cousin again, she was jumping out to greet her friend, grabbing the young brunette boy by the wrist and dragging him towards the car. Jules was chattering a mile a minute as she folded the seat and let him into the back, but Simon found himself once again unable to pay attention to what she was saying as he narrowed his eyes at Billy's reflection in the rear-view mirror.

The boy fidgeted, squirming and trying to keep his startling violet eyes down.

Most of the rest of the short ride progressed in the same fashion, Jules going on and on, in a better mood than she'd been in for weeks, while Simon glared at the boy in the back seat. He didn't like Billy.

"-and I know Nico has dat college interview today so he's not gonna remember on his own," Simon caught as he was pulling into the parking lot of the middle school, "Ani's gonna remind him after school though, after he gets home from Hélène and Yvette's birthday party. So dat just leave you, Si. You're coming, right?"

"Huh?" The blonde grunted, still only half paying attention, glaring at Billy's reflection and having no idea what his cousin was talking about. "Ya, sure, _petite_," He mindlessly conceded, "Whatever you want."

"Great!" Jules chirped excitedly, jumping onto her knees as the car stopped and leaning over to kiss her big cousin on the cheek, "See you tonight!"

"Bye," Simon called, his murderous gaze following the tanned surfer boy as he scrambled out of the vehicle.

On the sidewalk outside their school, the two thirteen-year-olds watched as Simon pulled away in the black Jag. Jules suspected that he would be skipping school today in order to joyride the car he'd had his eyes on for years. She couldn't blame him though. And as long as he made it back in time for the play, like he promised, she'd never rat him out.

"I don't think your cousin likes me very much," Billy remarked, nervously running his fingers through the messy brown hair falling into his shocking violet eyes.

Jules shrugged and reported, "Simon don't really like anyone." With a smirk, she amended, "Except for me. He loves me."

xxXxx

Nicolas LeBeau was in a Very Good Mood. He had just aced an entrance interview for Tulane University and was excited about going home to announce to his family that he'd been offered a full scholarship to pursue his double major of Art History and Civil Engineering, along with a self-written minor in Mutant Studies.

The first thing he noticed upon entering his grandfather's large mansion was the note on the kitchen table. It was from Tante and read: _Mon Anges, Mrs. Pardis went into labor and I've gone to help her_._ Have a good time tonight and tell Jules I'm sorry_._ Love, Tante_.

"Huh," Nico mused aloud to himself, flicking the note back onto the counter before heading to the phone for the pizza that would aid in he and his brothers and cousin having the aforementioned good time, "I wonder why she wanted to tell Jules sorry..."

Despite being almost unreasonably smart, the young man was quite a bit absent-minded. While dialing Domino's, he completely missed the bright play bill right beside his hand.

xxXxx

"Where are dey?" Jules wondered out loud, standing in front of her school's theater with Billy Sweet at her side.

"I'm sure they're just running late," The boy offered hopefully, putting an awkward comforting arm around his friend's slim costumed shoulders, "Did you try calling?"

The girl nodded. "Ya," She said, frowning worriedly, "De house phone was busy, and all de cells went straight to voicemail... I gotta get in dere..." She turned to Billy, red eyes pleading as she held out her camcorder, "Can you tape de show? Just until dey come?"

"Of course," The boy answered with a bright smile, putting on the set of yellow rubber dish gloves he now carried with him everywhere before carefully taking the piece of equipment from his friend, "I'll wait for a few more minutes, then go in and save some seats, alright?"

She smiled brightly, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Thanks, Billy," Jules stated happily, jumping up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek as she pulled away, "You're de best!"

Billy Sweet was left with his mouth hanging wide open as he watched the devil girl run back inside the building, her rich medieval costume billowing out behind her thin legs. He was very glad for the rubber gloves when he felt a bolt of white hot electricity surge through his entire body. By the time he went inside to save the seats, his hair was standing on end.

xxXxx

At a little before eight that night, Nicolas LeBeau was happily munching on a slice of pepperoni pizza as he watched cartoons and waited for his family to get home. It would be nice with just his brothers and cousin. The fact that they were going to be completely unsupervised was a recipe for fun and mayhem.

The doorbell rang and he went to answer it, startled to open the door and find Alexandre Gaulle, the Guild's head physician, holding up his very... inebriated little brother as the man's blonde twin daughters fidgeted guiltily on either side. The sandy-haired doctor had a grim expression on his face as he shifted the grip he had on Anatole's small fifteen-year-old body.

"Ey, Nico," Alexandre greeted, "Tante here?"

"Uh," The teenager stated dumbly as he stared at the scene before him, "No, she ain't. She's helping Mrs. Paradis with her baby... _mon dieu_, is Ani drunk?"

After a brief glare at his two daughters, the tall man answered, "'Fraid so. Hélène and Yvette broke into my liquor cabinet during dere birthday party. Dey've been feeding him spiked drinks since about three-"

"NICO!!" Anatole suddenly shouted, slurring his words and struggling to regain his footing as his thick black glasses slipped down his freckled nose, "NICO!! I'm so glad I found you!! We have to GO!!! We're gonna be late for de Bard!!"

"Uh," Nico gaped once more, darting out to grab his little brother when he nearly took a header straight into the floor. Grunting as he pulled the smaller boy up, the brunette slowly stated, "Well, I'm real glad you found me, too, Ani. Let's, um, get you _un café_, _petite frère_... thanks for bringing him home, Monsieur Gaulle."

Alexandre nodded, sparing annoyed glances at both of his daughters. Hélène looked rather upset about having gotten caught and Yvette was just blushing and trying not to meet anyone's gaze. "Not a problem," The doctor stated, "I'm sorry about dis. I'll let your _mère_ and _père_ know it wasn't his fault... don't you have something to say, girls?"

Hélène shrugged, seeming quite disinterested. Yvette's already scarlet face flushed to an even darker shade, her short athletic body tense as she managed to softly whisper, "_Désolé_, Ani."

"S'ok," The dark-haired boy answered, his usually shy voice much louder than normal as he hiccupped and tiredly leaned his head onto his brother's strong shoulder, "S'ok. I like you. You're really nice. And smart. And _hot_." He picked his head up again, seeming to have a sudden revelation. He smiled dumbly, asking, "Hey, wanna go to de movies wit me some time?"

The girl's face broke into an immediate smile as she squealed, "YES!" Her sister laughed and her father glared, understanding coming across his weathered face. Poor Yvette blushed again, her gaze falling to her feet even though she couldn't stop grinning.

"Right," Alexandre snapped, putting a hand on each of his girls' shoulders and leading them away, "Sorry again, Nico." The brunette nodded. Just before he closed the door he heard Hélène give a loud laugh as she proclaimed, "See! I told you he wasn't gay!"

"N-I-C-O," The drunken boy called, loudly emphasizing every syllable of the name, "We have to go! I was sposta remind you! Because you forget stuff! And I know you forgot cuz of your college thingie! But that's ok because she knew you would and it's my job to remind you! I promised! And... And... And..." His big green eyes went impossibly wider, a hand darting up to close over his mouth. Poor little Anatole LeBeau then vomited all over the entryway of his grandfather's house before promptly passing out in Nicolas' arms.

Trying not to retch, Nico dragged his little brother to the bathroom and threw him in the tub, not paying any mind to the drunken message Ani was trying to convey.

xxXxx

"Yet here's a spot," Jules recited from memory, trying very hard not to break character as she struggled to look beyond the blinding stage lights. She'd been searching the front row of the theater every time she came on. And every time she found four empty seats beside Billy Sweet, who had the camcorder still glued to one violet eye as he shot her an enthusiastic thumbs-up, she got more and more depressed.

"Hark, she speaks!" The boy playing the doctor called in a mock whisper as he hid behind one of the prop pillars, "I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly."

That was Jules' cue, the girl completely engrossed in her character as she scrubbed at her hands and madly moaned, "Out, damned spot! Out, I say!--One- two -why then 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!--Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?--Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?"

"Do you mark that?" The doctor mock whispered once more, giving Juliette barely a second to glance into the crowd and once again find empty seats. She was battling down frustrated anger and tears as she recited her next line, "The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What, will these hands ne'er be clean? No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that. You mar all with this starting."

xxXxx

Remy LeBeau really was freezing his ass off and desperately wanted a cigarette. Ever since Antarctica, he'd been denied the ability to find easy warmth, as well as the choice of whether or not to indulge in one of his favorite bad habits; his asthma prevented him from getting anywhere near smoke without having a violent coughing fit. It happened to be yet another thing the X-Men had stolen from him.

Perched the top of a dark overpass somewhere in Ontario, hidden in the shadows as he waited for a scheduled truck of documents destined for shredding to come by on the trans-Canadian highway, the Prince of Thieves was more than a little annoyed. He didn't want to be on this asinine job, missing his daughter's play for something as mundane and uninteresting as a stupid file. Not that there really was anything he could think of that _would_ be worth missing his daughter's play...

He wanted to be with his Juliette and, despite her assertion that she understood and was not mad at him anymore, Remy still felt ridiculously guilty. He had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, like mice gnawing on his insides. The thief had already decided that he was going to buy--or possibly steal--his daughter something very sparkly on the way home. Hopefully it would make both of them feel a bit better.

Finally, he spotted the headlights of a truck coming towards his position and was looking forward to getting this heist over and done with so he could go back to his hotel room and watch the video file of his daughter's play. As the white semi passed beneath the bridge, Remy easily dropped right onto its roof.

It was a steel-plated former military transport vehicle, with pressure sealed doors and reinforced sides. The locks could only be opened with a microchip embedded laser-cut key that the manager of the shredding facility kept chained to his wrist.

For any normal person, the job would have been impossible. For any normal thief, the job would have been unnecessarily difficult. For Gambit, the job was a simple matter of a charged playing card stuck into one of the door seams.

xxXxx

"Daddy, are we there yet?" A white-haired ten-year-old asked excitedly as she squirmed in the backseat of her father's camper.

Growling under his breath, Logan Howlett managed about as much patience as he was capable of when he curtly replied, "No, darlin. We ain't."

His wife gave a calm smile as she glanced over her shoulder, soothing, "Ruby, dear, why don't you take a nap? We should have arrived at our campsite by the time you awaken."

"But I can't sleep!" The girl whined, creamy _café au lait_ face forming into a petulant frown as she locked eyes with her gruff father in the rearview mirror, "Zahra's snoring too loud!"

The dark-skinned six-year-old gave a sleepy snort as she started awake at the sound of her name. "Am not," She pouted deliriously, as confused and disoriented as the spiky black hair in disarray around the sharp features of her dark little face, "Mommy, Ruby's making fun of me!"

"Hush, my child," Ororo Monroe-Howlett soothed, smiling softly, "Your sister was not making fun. Go back to sleep." Never having been fully awake, it was easy for Zahra to simply pass out bonelessly against the uncomfortable hard plastic baby seat on her left side. The toddler contained in it gave a squeal of joy, grabbing a handful of the girl's dark hair to shove into his slobbery little mouth, the piercing blue eyes both his sisters had missed out on inheriting shining quite happily.

Ororo chuckled, reaching back to carefully arrange Zahra away from her brother. "That is not very nice, James," The weather witch kindly admonished her dark-haired son, a miniature, baby-faced image of his father, "Your sister will not be happy to find you making a meal of her hair." After a few moments of teary sniffling, the boy suddenly began wailing at the top of his little lungs. In the driver's seat, Logan's hands tightened around the steering wheel as he growled in annoyance. Family vacations were always such hell.

The moment before it happened, the Wolverine caught a brief flash of movement in the darkness on top of the white semi-truck he was trying to pass. Before he could even begin to speculate as to who or what would be riding on the roof of the vehicle, the entire back end of it was rocked by a deafening explosion. Flames and debris blew outwards in all direction, blinding him from the road. He listened to his entire family screaming as the camper spun out of control, as he fought to keep them from crashing.

His heart was pounding hard against his ribcage when they finally came to a squealing halt, the mutant barely allowing himself a moment to breathe before he was frantically turning to inspect his loved ones. "Is everyone alright?" Logan asked urgently, cupping his wife's dark face in one broad palm as he surveyed his frightened children. James was crying hysterically; Zahra was wide-awake, bleary-eyed and panicking and not far from crying herself; Ruby was unusually pale, shaking in her seat and compulsively gripping her armrest.

No one was hurt.

"Logan," Ororo stated when she had come to the same conclusion, "We should see if the driver of the truck is in need of assistance." The man's whole world had been the safety of his family. He hadn't even noticed the large flaming wreckage of the turned truck about a hundred yards in front of them.

"Ok, 'Ro," He agreed gruffly, opening his car door to the freezing night air, "Stay with the kids. Get on the phone and get some help out here." His wife was already turned around in her seat and trying to comfort their children, but she gave a curt nod as he stalked out onto the road.

Wolverine cautiously sniffed the air, cringing when all he could detect was gasoline and fire and burning metal. He quickly made his way to the truck's cab, pulling the unconscious but alive and relatively unscathed driver to a safe distance before going back. That movement he saw on the roof was not a coincidence. Someone had caused this accident and he was determined to find that person. Endangering his family was the quickest and easiest way to get a gut full of Adamantium claws.

Fighting down a throaty growl, Logan glanced inside the flaming trailer. Half of it had been blown away, burning papers still falling from the sky all around him. There was someone inside. He was sure of it. He could smell him.

He could see him a few seconds later; the figure crouched low in a corner, completely invisible aside from the glowing red pinpricks of light where his eyes would have been...

Seeming to know the exact moment he'd been found, the mysterious stranger suddenly lunged forward, pure grace and speed as he swung a thin metal pole straight at Logan's head.

The briefest flash of recognition went through his mind right before the pole connected hard with his temple.

Everything went dark.

xxXxx

Simon LeBeau had had a rather epic day. He skipped school and took his Uncle's black Jag to the beach, where he picked up and made out with no less than a dozen very hot young women. The hormone-ridden seventeen-year-old was, in fact, grinning like a fucking idiot as he pulled the car back up to his grandfather's mansion. Though reluctant to go inside, he figured it was about time he did. After all, he had to make sure Juliette wasn't getting into too much trouble.

But the second he stepped out of the garage he realized that Jules would not be his biggest problem that night as his older brother Nico tackled his screaming and flailing younger brother Ani to the floor right at his feet.

"NOOOOO!!!" Ani shrieked, kicking and punching wildly as Nico grunted and tried to restrain him, "NO!! NICO!! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!! DE BARD!! DE _BAAAAARRRRRDDDD!!!!_"

"_Oui_, _petite_ _frère_," Nico placated, straddling the smaller boy's back and pinning his wrists tightly to the ground, "I get it. De Bard. You still ain't driving anywhere in dis condition. Calm down now!"

"What de hell is goin on?" Simon asked, bending down to looking at his disheveled little brother as he continued to thrash and moan. A sudden bolt of inspiration struck, the blonde raising an eyebrow in disbelief as he asked, "Is Ani drunk?"

"It would seem so," Nico grumbled impatiently, the stocky brunette fighting to keep the drunk in question still, "Hélène and Yvette were spiking his drinks at dere birthday party. Alexandre brought him home a few hours ago. He passed out, and den woke up screaming and starting trying to get to de truck. _Mon dieu_, just fucken help me here!"

"Alright, alright," Simon grudgingly agreed, smirking and highly amused by getting to watch his normally quiet and shy little brother go nuts for once. He bent down close to the small boy's ear, carefully smoothing his dark hair away from his big green eyes as he soothed, "Ani, you gotta relax, _petite_ _frère_. Me and Nico got you. Whatever you want, we'll try to get it, but you gotta relax and make sense when you tell us what dat is, _d'accord_?"

The gentle touch and words that Simon hardly seemed capable of soon had Anatole coming down from his fretful state of urgency, glancing up at his big brothers with wide, unfocused eyes as he panted and slurred sadly, "She gonna be so mad at me..."

Still brushing back Ani's unkempt hair, Simon asked gently, "Who is?"

The boy sighed, his eyes slowly drifting shut again as he murmured, "De Scottish Lady." Nico and Simon frowned at each other, still very, very confused.

xxXxx

"Maybe they got caught in traffic," Billy offered sheepishly, breaking the silence of the last half hour as he and Juliette finally turned to walk up her darkened street.

Still in costume, the girl made a big show of looking up and down the nearly deserted road before scowling at Billy and demanding, "What traffic?"

"Er..." He answered, scratching his already tousled brown hair as he tried hard to think of a feasible answer. "Ok," The boy finally conceded, "Maybe not traffic, but... something else. I know they wouldn't miss your play on purpose. Your family loves you too much for that."

Jules sighed, fiddling with her camcorder as she agreed, "Ya, I know. But... I guess I just wanted _someone_ dere... felt like I was playing to an empty house without dem... almost didn't see de point..."

Again, the boy gave an uncomfortable shrug. He really didn't know what to say to make Jules feel any better, but he desperately wanted to. He wanted her to keep being the happy, bubbly, wonderfully pretty girl he'd grown to... really, really like quite a bit.

"Well," He offered weakly, "I was there."

Jules turned to him and smiled, and he thought he could detect a slight blush staining her cheeks as she responded, "_Oui_, you were. Thank you for coming, Billy. It really does mean a lot."

The boy grinned, giddy on his brief success, enough so that he managed to summon the courage to reach out and grab Juliette's free hand. She blushed still, smiling shyly even as her eyes stayed down. She didn't pull away and that was just perfect.

That's why, in Billy's opinion, they reached the front door of the LeBeau manor far too soon. "Um..." He started, his voice cracking embarrassingly, "I guess... good night, Jules."

The girl smiled warmly, not letting go of his hand as she replied, "_Bonne nuit_, Billy."

Both their hearts were beating like hammers as Jules leaned forward again, less bold this time about kissing her friend on the cheek because she'd come to realize that he meant a little more to her than that. Her gut was all tied up in knots and she didn't quite know what to do.

Almost high on the whole situation, Billy tilted his head at the last minute so his lips instead of his cheek met Jules'.

A spark literally went off between them.

"Ouch!" She shouted, jumping backwards with tingling lips as Billy turned red. "I-I'm so sorry!" He stuttered, feeling horribly stupid about shocking his first kiss, "I really didn't mean to and-"

"_Se calmer_," Jules ordered, giggling slightly as her pale cheeks turned pink (Calm down). Billy could see her entrancing eyes glow red in the dark as she continued, "It's alright. I know it wasn't on purpose... you'll just have to concentrate harder next time, _oui_?"

"Next ti..." Billy gaped, unable to process what she was saying as his jaw hung wide open. Jules stepped forward and kissed him again, lightly, on the corner of his mouth. He didn't even shock her. For once in his life, he was shocked. Oh, the irony.

"See," She stated with a nervous but teasing smirk on her face, "Dat wasn't so hard."

Billy couldn't help returning the grin, even though he knew his must look big and dopey and stupid as he stood there gaping, at a complete loss for words.

The girl smiled at him as she opened the front door, waving shyly over her shoulder before retreating into the house.

Billy Sweet walked home alone, unable to get the big, dopey, stupid grin off his face even as he wandered through the town accidentally zapping random passersby.

xxXxx

When Juliette LeBeau walked into her grandfather's mansion, she wasn't entirely sure what she expected to find. She could have easily forgiven her cousins had she seen some evidence of a struggle or accident--an overturned table and an unlocked door--or perhaps a note professing some dire, apocalyptic emergency that had taken them far from home.

In the entryway, she did see evidence of a struggle--a coat rack was laying on its side on the smoothing marble floor--but that made her feel horribly guilty and ridiculously worried about her cousins' welfare.

Then she heard singing and laughing in the living room.

When she arrived on the scene, Jules was just in time to watch a half-naked Anatole begin doing a highly uncoordinated belly-dance while standing on the couch and belting show tunes as Nico and Simon rolled on the floor, both clutching their sides from laughing so hard as they cheered the boy on.

Jules was stunned and confused, not to mention _hurt_. _"Dis is what dey missed my play for?"_

Simon noticed the girl first, stilling slightly on the floor and wiping away tears of laughter from his deep brown eyes as he called, "Ey, _petite_. Where you been?" Nico peered up at his baby cousin, hardly able to breathe as he giggled, "Want Ani to serenade you, _ma belle_? He's real good!" Both the teens on the floor quickly broke up laughing again, oblivious to the look of shock, anger, and pain on Juliette's face.

The next time Simon managed to get a hold of himself, he glanced up and finally noticed the peculiar way Jules was dressed. The fact that she was wearing _a dress_ was strange enough, but this one looked like something that would've been more common in the Middle Ages, all rich and billowy and red, with a high, adorned waist and flowing bell sleeves. "Halloween already, Princess?" The blonde joked.

That was the last damn straw. Suddenly far more scary and demonic than she'd ever been before in her entire life, Jules narrowed her eyes at all three of her stupid, laughing, _singing_ cousins. She could feel anger coursing through her veins, and fire, and, for the first time since the mysterious fever was discovered, her body felt unbearably hot. The fists clenched tightly at both her sides seemed to be melting from the inside out as her arms shook and her vision clouded with red.

Nico and Simon were disappointed when Ani suddenly stopped his hilarious rendition of some old Backstreet Boys song and dance, which they had both made mental notes to tease him mercilessly for later because he actually knew all the words and steps. The boy went wide-eyed, looking completely terrified as he screamed, "_Mon dieu_! I told ya she'd be mad! I'm sorry, Lady!" He then hurled himself over the couch, quivering in a corner as he hugged his skinny knees to his bare chest.

His brothers looked at each other in confusion and then slowly turned around.

Jules' clenched fists were completely engulfed in balls of crackling black and crimson flames that were quickly climbing her slim arms. Her wild hair blew backwards from her furious face, her eyes glowing hotter than either boy had ever seen before.

"Fuck!" Nico gasped, jumping to his feet and sprinting into the kitchen, leaving Simon all alone with an enraged and unhinged mutant. The blonde slowly got to his feet, his hands held defensively in front of himself as he cautiously approached his sweet baby cousin. "Jules," He shakily called, beginning to seriously panic as the unnaturally dark flames climbed over her neck and shoulders, traveling to quickly engulf her ribcage, torso, and legs, her head swallowed up last of all.

She was scorching a wide ring of carpet all around her, the material smoldering and burning and filling the room with thick smoke, but the girl, her hair and dress, remained untouched, unconsumed.

Simon was very close to having a heart attack.

Nico rushed back from the kitchen with a large fire extinguisher, immediately turning it on his baby cousin in an attempt to put her out. The whole can was empty by the time he realized that it wasn't doing any good at all. Nicolas and Simon LeBeau exchanged horrified glances, neither having any idea what the hell to do to save Juliette from herself. They were helpless to watch her simply continue to burn.

Jules blinked and suddenly couldn't breathe. Everything was so _hot_. She could barely make out Nico and Simon beyond her own fire-clouded vision, see their terrified stares. She couldn't breathe.

_couldn't breathe_.

_couldn't breathe_.

_couldn't breathe_.

"Simon," The girl gasped, her voice crackling and alien as the fire shot straight down her throat, scorching but not burning her lungs. The flames surrounding her small body glowed deeper, pulsing as her eyes began to roll back into her head. "Nico," She ordered with her last breath, "Run."

She barely saw her cousins take cover behind the couch before everything exploded into dark, searing red.

xxXxx

Deep in the Xavier Mansion in Westchester, New York, the machine called Cerebro went insane as it picked up two uncontrolled power signatures from the city of New Orleans.

One of them disappeared within minutes.

The other ran desperately.

Charles Xavier furrowed his brow before calling in his X-Men.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

This is the part where I cue the dramatic music, hehe. The long awaited re-entrance of the X-men is forthcoming, my peoples. I hope the anticipation doesn't prove too much for ya'll.

Reviews make me dance happily in my pretty panties and that is something the world definitely needs more of. Contribute to the cause.


	8. Part 8: Violent Delights

Part 8 - Violent Delights Have Violent Ends

"JULES!! Simon screamed, singed and choking on smoke but first to his feet after the deafening explosion that rocked the entire house off its foundation. The teen's ears were ringing loudly, his hair and clothing singed, the living room destroyed, but he didn't care about anything aside from finding Juliette, his pretty, happy little cousin who he loved like a baby sister. If she had gotten hurt in the blast of her newly formed powers, he didn't know what he would do.

"JULES!!" He shrieked again, hurriedly rushing forward when he saw her small body sprawled out inside the large circular scorch mark on the carpet. "Jules!" The boy called worriedly, sinking to his knees at her side and grabbing her slim shoulders.

He had to immediately retract his blistered hands in pain.

She was too hot to touch.

"Nico!" Simon screamed as he heard his older brother coughing and stumbling forward out of the wreckage. The brunette was carrying Ani towards the kitchen as the skinny drunk wailed and struggled.

"She alright?" Nico demanded urgently, still coughing as various small fires filled the room with more and more smoke.

Simon looked down into Jules' smudged face, watching her thin chest rise and fall with strain as he answered, "She's breathing... get some ice in here... and call Uncle Remy!"

xxXxx

Instant Messenger was a relatively new concept to the Prince of Thieves, but that didn't make it any less useful to him. He loved that he could chat at length with his baby girl and was especially fond of the file-sharing features. In the early morning hours, he sat in his hotel room in Ontario, Canada, patiently waiting for **JuleThief **to sign on and send him the video of her play.

Smiling at his daughter's choice of screen name gave the man a brief respite from his terrifying recollection of the night's previous events.

He had run into the Wolverine, Logan, after thirteen years fate had brought them across each others' paths. He felt horrible about having to knock out the man he had once considered a friend, but Remy couldn't risk being recognized. Why then, thief demanded of himself, had he chanced a peak into the man's camper? Why did he stay for almost ten minutes watching Storm, his lost sister, comforting three small children in the backseat? Those kids had so much of Logan and Ororo in them, cheerful, bubbly Ruby, quirky little Zahra, and the mini-Wolverine James. Remy could hardly believe that so much time had gone by. He found himself slightly nostalgic for his two loyal friends.

But he had to live in the present. That was all behind him. Logan and Ororo were happy. They had finally gotten together. They had a family. They have moved on and were surviving just fine without him.

The realization made him very happy.

But it also inevitably brought up thoughts of the other X-Men, one untouchable in particular. Remy couldn't help but wonder where Rogue had ended up...

_"No!"_ He scolded himself, shaking his head and going back to staring at the blank messenger window, _"Don't think on dat harpy! You have a new love, a daughter more beautiful and loyal den Rogue ever was_. _You have your family back_._ Be thankful, _homme._"_

And he really, truly was.

That made the events to unfold all the more tragic.

xxXxx

Jules awoke to the sounds of frantic chatter coming at her from all directions, seeming to squeeze her already severely throbbing head and the stifling heat pressing thick all around her small body. The girl groaned and the chatter stopped. She was amazed with herself.

"Juliette?" She knew in an instant that the voice belonged to Nico, as well as the cool hand on her fevered forehead, "Jules? _Petite_?"

"What?" She grunted, completely unwilling to open her eyes. She felt sore and hot all over, like she'd just finished a non-stop, week-long training session, and her stomach was cramping quite painfully.

"Need you to open your eyes, Princess," Nico ordered kindly. The girl groaned again, but slowly, grudgingly obliged.

Nico and Simon were standing over her, the stocky brunette and skinny blonde wearing identical expressions of mingled fear, worry, and relief as their sooty faces swam into focus. Holding her stomach, Jules slowly sat up and peered curiously at the smoking wreckage left of the living room.

"What de hell happened?" She asked in amazement, only remembering being mad at them for missing her play and then... red...

Simon gave her a sheepish smile, petting her messy black bangs as he stated, "You know dose powers you been wanting?"

The girl blinked. Her eyes grew wide as understanding dawned on her pretty features. "I did dis?" She questioned incredulously, "_Merde_. I don't even... I didn't mean... I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"Nah," Nico laughed tightly, forcing a smile so that Jules wouldn't freak out, "It'll take more den a crazy fireball _du_ Jules to hurt us."

The girl released a shaking breath of relief, carefully attempting to get to her feet. Nico and Simon shoved her right back down.

"Take it easy," Nico ordered sternly, "We don't want you hurting yourself. We're trying to get in touch wit Uncle Remy, but, in de meantime, Monsieur Gaulle's coming over to check you out."

"NO!" She screamed, immediately defensive over the idea of a doctor being anywhere near her. Shoving her cousins as she struggled to stand, Jules was amazed to see that her arms were still smoking slightly. "Don't wanna see de doctor!" She cried, artfully ducking out from two tackles as she ran for the stairs, grabbing her camcorder along the way, "Stay de hell away from me, you assholes!!"

Simon scowled as he and his brother chased the stumbling girl. They were too late to keep her from running into her room and slamming the door in their faces. As Nico was discovering that they were locked out rather thoroughly, his blonde brother snapped, "Told ya we shoulda tied her up!"

xxXxx

"We have two mutants to find in New Orleans," Charles Xavier announced to a team of his assorted X-Men, "I have a name and address for one, but, aside from a surge of power, I have been completely unable to locate the second."

"Are you sure it wasn't the same person, Professor?" Scott Summers asked stoically, his no-nonsense expression set in stone.

Xavier shook his bald head, stating, "I am fairly certain the second surge of power was from an unrelated source. I was able to isolate the general area in which it occurred, so one half of the team will be searching there." Scott glanced at his wife, who silently nodded in response to his unasked question of whether or not she would be willing to lead that mission.

"So, like, who's the first guy?" Kitty Pryde inquired excitedly, having quite a fun time getting her toenails psychically painted beneath the table by one Jean Grey-Summers. Shadowcat was nearing her thirties, but had never changed one bit from the bubbly, slightly ditzy teen.

Smirking at the clueless valley girl, Professor X turned his chair to face a large monitor hanging from the wall. He pushed a button on his armrest and a picture of a young, handsome teenager appeared. The boy had messy brown hair, a charming, lopsided smile, and thick-lashed, startling violet eyes. His skin was tan, with sun-kissed freckles across the bridge of his broad nose. His head was tilted slightly to the right. _Sweet, William Benjamin_ was printed beneath the photo.

"Meet Billy Sweet," The Professor announced, not even startled when Kurt Wagner _bamf_ed into the room with his half-asleep untouchable sister in tow. "He is thirteen and a known electrokinetic," Xavier continued, "He moved to New Orleans a little over three months previous escaping anti-mutant hatred in his hometown of Barstow, California. Several hours ago, he attempted to push a button to cross an intersection and unwittingly caused everything electrical within a three block radius to surge and explode. Half the city is blacked-out. I spoke with the boy's father, and he said that his son has not come home. From what I have gathered, young William is very scared and on the run. I'm afraid a similar incident is what, excuse the pun, sparked his family's move from Barstow."

"Poor kid," Warren Worthington commented sadly as he got to his feet and stretched his massive white wings, "What are we waiting for then?"

"More lahke 'who,'" Rogue yawned crankily, "Bobby still ain't here." Most of the rest of the assorted mutants rolled their eyes, the Professor chuckling lightly as he pressed two fingers to his temple. "I am pleased to inform you all that Mr. Drake has just woken himself falling out of bed," He announced after a few moments, smiling mysteriously, "He will meet you at the Blackbird."

With a few intermittent snickers, the X-Men set out for the Big Easy.

xxXxx

"DAMNIT, JULES!!" Simon screamed, his raging voice slightly hoarse after nearly an hour of yelling, "OPEN DE FUCKEN DOOR!!"

"Still no luck?" Dr. Alexandre Gaulle asked worriedly as he inspected his medical bag for supplies. He had only been at the LeBeau house for about fifteen minutes, but that was more than long enough to have been filled in on the story of Jules' manifesting powers, as well as the fact that she had been sealed in her room for the last hour or so. Nico had finally gone outside to try climbing in through the window. Simon was still bound and determined to break down the door.

The blonde glared at the doctor, not ceasing his pounding as he snapped, "What's it look like? JULIETTE LEBEAU! I AIN'T PLAYIN AROUND WITH YOU! OPEN DIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

"Maybe I can talk to her," The tall, sandy-haired man suggested.

Simon scoffed. "No offense, _monsieur_," The boy growled, "But dat'll just make things worse. Jules ain't too fond of doctors."

The Guild's head physician smirked, commenting dryly, "Like father like daughter, I suppose."

Suddenly, they could hear movement inside the room, both men going still as they anxiously waited. The door swung open to reveal a somber Nico.

"She melted de lock," He reported, pointing to the misshapen hunk of metal inside the doorjamb that he'd had to pry open, "And de door was barricade, but she ain't in here... her duffel and computer are gone."

There was a brief silence before Simon started swearing at the top of his lungs, stomping towards the cars to begin the search for his wayward, possibly hurt and/or dangerous baby cousin.

xxXxx

About a half a block from the public library, Jules noticed a dark trail of blood dripping down the inside of her thigh. Her first period, she realized as she was climbing into the dark, quiet building. It would figure she got it then.

The girl went into the bathroom and, as calmly as she could manage, picked the lock on the sanitary napkin dispenser before helping herself to what she needed. She also stole some Tylenol out of one of the librarian's desks to help relieve her stomach cramps.

With that taken care of, the angry and frightened young woman wandered silently into the library's abandoned wireless internet zone, where she set up her laptop and camcorder and signed on to instant messenger.

Her father, **LeDiableBlanc**, was already on. A conversation window popped up almost immediately.

**LeDiableBlanc: **Bonjour, mon amour. You steal the show?

Smiling, Jules quickly lost herself in the comfort of the playful exchange.

**JuleThief: **Oui, Papa. They didn't even know what hit em.

**LeDiableBlanc:** That's my girl.

**JuleThief:** Your job go ok?

**LeDiableBlanc:** Oui. Easy as pie. Sending me the video, mon ange?

**JuleThief:** Oui. It's sending now.

**LeDiableBlanc:** Merci. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there in person.

**JuleThief: **I know. It's ok.

**LeDiableBlanc: **You behaving yourself?

**JuleThief:** Define behaving.

**LeDiableBlanc: **Should've expected that answer. Just don't blow anything up.

The silence of the library was suddenly broken by a loud, bitter guffaw. Jules had a hard time keeping her hands from shaking as she replied.

**JuleThief:** What if I already did?

**LeDiableBlanc: **Kill anyone?

**JuleThief:** No.

**LeDiableBlanc: **Property damage?

**JuleThief:** Massive.

**LeDiableBlanc: **Cops?

**JuleThief:** Not that I saw.

**LeDiableBlanc: **Ha. Well then, no harm done. Try not to do it again.

Jules suddenly realized that her father thought she was joking. The girl rolled her glowing red eyes.

Another name from her buddy list signed on. She recognized it as belonging to Billy Sweet about two seconds before a new window appeared.

**DudeSweet:** Can I stay at your house tonight?

Frowning and speculating as to why Billy would ask that, Jules took a few moments to think before replying.

**JuleThief:** I'm not at my house.

**DudeSweet: **Where are you?

**JuleThief: **Where are you?

**DudeSweet:** The internet cafe near the movie theater.

**JuleThief:** Why?

**DudeSweet: **I think I'm in trouble.

**JuleThief:** Join the club. What'd you do?

**DudeSweet:** Shorted out a big chunk of downtown.

**DudeSweet:** On accident.

**JuleThief:** Nice. I nearly blew up my grand-pere's house.

**JuleThief:** On accident.

**DudeSweet:** No way. Where are you?

**JuleThief:** The library.

**DudeSweet: **Isn't the library closed?

**JuleThief:** Your point?

**DudeSweet:** Can I join you?

**JuleThief:** Sure. Knock on the side door and I'll let you in.

**DudeSweet: **Thanks. See you soon.

Billy signed off and Jules found a message waiting from her father.

**LeDiableBlanc:** Your friend Billy is a strange one.

**JuleThief:** I know that but how do you?

**LeDiableBlanc:** You watched your video yet?

**JuleThief:** No.

**LeDiableBlanc:** Take a look.

Curious, the girl opened the file. She immediately got a rather unbecoming view directly up Billy's left nostril. After a moment of clumsy, jerky movements and focusing, the boy's whole face came on screen. He grinned lopsidedly, his yellow gloved thumb halfway over the lens.

"_Hello and _bon-jour" He stated brightly, making Juliette snicker over his rather poor French pronunciation, "_Welcome to _Macbeth_ by Billy Shakespeare_-" Again, the girl had to laugh, "-_starring the lovely and talented Jules LeBeau as Lady Macbeth_._ I am Billy Sweet, your cameraman for the evening_."

The video grew dark, but Juliette could just make out movement as her friend turned the camera towards the stage. "_And so it begins_," He whispered in a mock-serious, hilariously ominous voice, giggling to himself as he waited for the play to start.

The three witches came on stage, solemn and creepy as they recited their lines. "_Huh_," Billy remarked from off-screen after the first few seconds, "_I thought this was the one with the fairies_." A person somewhere to his left shushed the boy, the camera shaking as he squirmed nervously in his seat. He only managed to stay quiet for about three seconds before asking someone, presumably not the person who shushed him, "_How long until Lady Macbeth comes on?_"

"_I dunno_," The new person grunted unhappily, "_Just shut up and watch, kid_."

Again, the camera shook as Billy squirmed. Also again, he only managed to stay quite for a few moments before musing out loud, "_Where's the popcorn guy?_"

Jules was laughing so hard she was crying, completely ignoring the messages popping up in the little window in the corner of her monitor.

**LeDiableBlanc:** Why did you have him make the video?

**LeDiableBlanc:** Where were Tante, Nico, Simon, and Ani?

**LeDiableBlanc:**Jules?

**LeDiableBlanc:** Hang on. I'm getting a call from Nico.

**LeDiableBlanc:** Jules, where are you?

**LeDiableBlanc:** Jules, answer me!

**LeDiableBlanc:** What's going on, mon amour?

**LeDiableBlanc:** Are you alright?

**LeDiableBlanc:** Please, just tell me you're alright!

xxXxx

"Any luck?" Rogue asked absently as she came walking up to where Jean Grey-Summers was still doing a psychic sweep of the area. They were in New Orleans, and Rogue was uncomfortable. The city reminded her too much of Remy and she wanted to be out of there as quickly as possible. She had never forgiven herself for what happened to him, and had not even attempted a relationship since his death. She felt guilty and selfish, and still sometimes cried herself to sleep at night with questions of 'what if?'.

"Nothing," Jean answered, opening her eyes and dropping her fingers from her temples as she slumped exhaustedly against their parked rental car, "But the Professor said he was sure the power surge occurred somewhere within a half-mile of where we're standing."

"Maybe it vas a fluke," Kurt Wagner suggested, sprawled on the hood of the car playing a handheld videogame, "Maybe zee other mutant, zees Billy Sveet, maybe he eez powerful enough to confuse Cerebro."

Rogue shrugged noncommittally, blowing white bangs out of her eyes as she wrapped her gloved hands around her body and wished to be anywhere else.

"Guys!" They heard, the familiar excited-Kitty screech making them all visibly cringe as they turned to find the valley girl bouncing their way from across the street. She wore her long brown hair in the same high ponytail she always had, a pink cami and sweater set matched perfectly with her pink-glittered blue jeans and bright pink tennis shoes.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" She squealed, jumping up and down on the balls of her feet, accidentally phasing herself into the pavement up to her knees on every downward journey.

"Take a breath, Kit," Rogue ordered crossly, "Ah don't have the patience to interpret your hyperness right now."

Nodding, the woman did as she was told, drawing a deep gulp of air into her lungs before rushing out, "Like, I talked to this nice old woman who lives at the end of the street and we had tea and she told me that last night she heard an explosion and then lots of yelling from this house-" She held out her hand to reveal a neat address printed on her finely manicured palm. From the number, Rogue saw that it was located at the other end of the long street.

Barely pausing, Kitty continued, "-and, like, she said she didn't think much of it because the man that lives there has a whole bunch of grandkids and they're always getting into trouble but never anything major and she expected it because the grandpa and the kids' parents are out of town but she also said that one of the boys came by her house this morning asking if she had seen his little cousin and that she'd been missing since last night and-"

Completely out of breath, the girl had to stop herself and actually draw some oxygen into her lungs before continuing, "The girl is a mutant!!"

"Well alright," Rogue quipped with about as much enthusiasm as she was capable of, "Seems lahke a great place to look. Let's get down there."

"Lead zee way!" Kurt proclaimed happily, jumping to his feet on top of the car and doing a graceful pirouette before jumping gracefully to the ground. All the women were snickering as they trailed after him.

xxXxx

Anatole LeBeau was absolutely convinced that he was going to die.

Even if the excruciating hangover didn't kill him--he didn't want to go out vomiting, that was too unpleasant and humiliating--or the headache--his poor skull felt like it would crack in half at any moment--or the slight smoke inhalation he'd suffered in the fire the night before--even though he didn't remember that at all--he was sure he was going to die.

It was his job to remind Nico about Jules' play, and he'd failed so they missed it. Jules would murder him for sure.

On the off chance that she didn't, his parents would for getting drunk, never mind that it wasn't entirely his fault.

If they decided to spare him, his _grand-père_ was going to send the boy into the next life for the vast amount of damage that was done to the man's precious home.

And even if he survived all of those trials, even if all those people were in kind, benevolent and forgiving moods, he knew for sure that his Uncle Remy would kill him on the spot for hurting and then losing his precious daughter.

So, when the doorbell of the LeBeau mansion rang, Ani might have overexerted his poor hungover body just a little too much in his rush to answer it. He was praying that it would be Jules, that having stayed home in case she came back would not have been in vain. He was hoping to be able to call up Nico and Simon, who were out with half the Guild combing the city for the runaway Princess of Thieves, and tell them that she was safe and sound.

Instead, he found himself face to face with a fuzzy blue monster with intense yellow eyes and sharp, pointed teeth gleaming inside a wide, smiling mouth.

The dark-haired fifteen-year-old's large green eyes grew impossibly larger behind his thick black glasses before promptly rolling back into his head as his lanky body slumped to the cool marble floor.

Just before he faded from consciousness, he heard a light, bubbly voice declare, "Uh oh... like, I told you we should stop letting Kurt ring the doorbells!"

xxXxx

"I look like an idiot!" Billy grumbled, squirming uncomfortably in his disguise, pulling the straw cowboy hat farther down on his messy brown hair as he tried to adjust the dark shades on his face. "And I can't even see out of these stupid things!" He whined, jogging to keep up with his friend's long strides. She sure had long legs for someone of her height, and they looked so good in those tight jeans, too...

"Don't matter whether or not you can see out of 'em," Jules answered, sporting shades herself, as well as a long blonde wig she picked up in a thrift store for just two bucks. "De whole idea is to make sure you're not seen and recognized," The thief informed her companion, cautiously glancing up and down the busy street for signs of the Guild search party that would inevitably be coming after her, "And you always think you look like an idjit, so how is dis any different?"

Billy stuck out his tongue at the back of Jules' faux-blonde head.

"What's the plan then?" He asked, puffing and wishing Jules would walk just a bit slower. How she was in such great shape, he would never know... not that he was complaining...

With a shrug, the young mutant answered, "Stay under de radar until my papa comes home."

Billy raised an eyebrow, humming, "Ya, that's nice, but what about me?"

"What about you?" Jules laughed, finally slowing down a bit to allow her friend to catch up. She shot him a sideways smirk, red eyes glowing bright as she looked over the top of her shades at him. "Anyone see you blow anything up?" She asked, talking to him as if he were a small child, "Anyone chase you when you ran? Anyone describe your face to de cops? Can anyone even prove you did _anything_?"

The boy frowned as he thought, finally admitting, "Well... no, I guess not..."

"You ain't gettin busted, Billy," Jules soothed, hefting her duffel a little higher on her slim shoulder as she continued to keep a watchful eye on the street, "You can go home if you really want to. Could've gone home last night, dummy. You're probably in a lot more trouble for not going home, now dat I think about it."

The boy's expressive tan face wrinkled into an uncomfortable grimace as he realized the truth in his friend's word. "Maybe," He admitted, smirking slightly as he grabbed her free hand, "But I still would've stayed with you. This is kind of fun. We're like spies or something."

Juliette's pale cheeks turned pink and hot, the girl keeping her gaze straight ahead as she tried to get the back flips going on her in her gut to please cease and nervously made sure that the blonde wig was still covering her horns.

"OW!" Billy suddenly yelled shrilly, jumping away from his friend with his hand stinging. Jules paled once more. "I'm so sorry!" She offered sheepishly, frustrated and angry and feeling quite a bit helpless against her power as she saw the slightly melted palm of Billy's yellow rubber dish glove, "I didn't mean to. Are you alright?"

Trying to brush off his girlish scream with nonchalance, as well as find a way to painlessly get the melted rubber out of his skin, Billy's voice cracked squeakily as he chirped, "Oh ya, I'm fine. Don't worry about it... hey, can we maybe go get something to drink somewhere? Preferably in a place that has lots of ice?"

Jules returned a tight smile, feeling guilty as she conceded, "Sure... um, how about some lunch while we're at it? I'm buying." Grinning, Billy agreed, "Ya, awesome! I'm starving! And, dude, if we end up in another Creole restaurant, please keep me from ordering anything's intestines again."

xxXxx

Jean carefully took a pulse from the small teenager's neck, breathing a sigh of relief as she reported, "He's fine. He just fainted." She looked up at her teammates, instructing, "Help me carry him inside so we can make him comfortable until he wakes." Rogue and Kurt nodded, the untouchable grabbing the boy's legs as her brother hoisted him up by the shoulders. Together, they transported him towards the direction where they assumed a living room might be.

All they found was the well-done remains of a living room, all the walls scorched and a large black crater burned into the carpet.

"Well," Rogue observed, "Ah think it's safe to say that this is the place... Jean, can yah turn one of those sofas back over so we can lay the poor boy down?" The redhead gave a nod, easily righting one of the slightly singed leather couches for her fellow X-Men to arrange the still unconscious teen onto. Kurt immediately took a perch on top of the backrest, guiltily watching over the dark-haired stranger.

After Jean confirmed that the house was indeed empty, she and the other women took to wandering about in search of some clue as to identity of the passed out child and the mutant who did all the damage.

It wasn't long before Rogue stopped at one of the framed pictures hanging from the walls. Staring straight back at her was a slightly older version of her lost love. Remy had one of those carefree, mischievous smiles on his handsome face, his glowing red eyes filled with mirth as he swung a raven-haired toddler upside down by her ankles. She looked like she was screaming with laughter, red-on-black eyes half-closed as the crimson horns growing out of her pale forehead caught glares from the sunlight.

"Oh mah Gawd," Was the only thing Rogue could manage to gasp as her gloved hand flew up to cover her mouth. She was instantly crying, sobbing, really, and the noise soon drew Jean and Kitty's attentions.

They questioned their friend and teammate, but soon knew exactly what had gotten her so worked up as they too examined the photograph.

"Oh my God," Jean murmured in disbelief, immediately setting out to contact the Professor with the new development.

"Oh. My. GOD!" Kitty shrieked at the top of her shrill little lungs.

"Blasphemers," Kurt grumbled, still unwilling to abandon his watch over the witless teen he'd scared into a fainting spell.

xxXxx

"Is that him?" Bobby Drake asked for the hundredth time in the last day as he absentmindedly pointed to yet another random passerby.

"No," Cyclops growled, his patience quickly waning as he scanned the crowd for a glimpse of Billy Sweet. The boy had proven quite difficult to track, running all over the city like he was, slipping up and down side-streets and cutting through buildings like he'd been doing it all his life, but the Professor was keeping a close eye on him and had assured Scott that he had definitely stopped somewhere in the general vicinity.

"Oh," Bobby yawned disinterestedly, choosing random direction to point in as he questioned, "Well, is that him?"

Against his better judgment, Scott glanced to where the man was gesturing. His thin upper lip curved into a snarl. "That's a _dog_," He growled, feral and terrifying, having to use every ounce of his limitless self-control to keep from hurting the Iceman.

Bobby Drake gave an apathetic shrug.

"Kid's been out since last night, right?" Warren questioned, squirming uncomfortably with his large wings hidden beneath a baggy trenchcoat. The weather was a bit too humid for the garb and he was hoping to find the boy quickly so that he could get out of it. When Scott gave a stoic nod, the Angel suggested, "He's probably getting hungry about now. Maybe we should check inside some of these little restaurants. They would seem to be the most logical places to stop around here."

"That's not a bad idea," Cyclops agreed, waving his two teammates into the first eating establishment they passed, a dingy little hole-in-the-wall that was packed and practically oozing with the rich, heavenly scents of Cajun spices.

Billy Sweet was not hard to spot. Despite the fact that the young boy was in strategically one of the best locations for avoiding notice--all the way in a dark back corner, partially blocked by a large upright alligator wood carving--he was laughing, waggling a thick piece of what looked to be sausage in the air as he asked loudly, "What did you say was in these things?"

The blonde girl he was with shook her head at him, adjusting her black shades as she giggled and hissed, "Shut up, ya idjit! You're drawing too much attention! And gimme back my boudin! Ya said ya didn't want anything's intestines!"

"I know," Billy chuckled, fidgeting with his big straw cowboy hat and taking a large bite of the sausage link before grinning at his companion with a mouth full of half-chewed meat, "But that was before I tasted this! It's awesome!"

"How are we doing this?" Warren whispered to Scott, eager to know his leader's plan of action. With his shoulders and jaw set firmly, the tall man answered, "Best thing is to probably be straight with the kid, walk over, introduce ourselves, and offer him some help." Cyclops and Angel both glanced over at the Iceman, who was tapping the glass of a crawfish tank as he cooed, "Hello, pretties. My name is Bobby but you may call me... God."

Scott grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him upright and giving him a very stern look as he waved a finger right in the younger man's face. "Stay here," He ordered, "Do not touch anyone or talk to anything. Understand?" The stocky thirty-year-old pouted quite petulantly but gave a hint of a nod, watching as his pair of teammates stalked towards the table in the back corner.

The blonde girl saw them coming before they got anywhere near her and her companion, tensing and grabbing her bag with one hand at Billy's rubber-gloved wrist with the other as she prepared to run.

"Take it easy," Scott soothed, smiling in what he hoped was a friendly way as he pulled over an empty chair and took a seat, motioning for Warren to do the same. "We're not here to hurt you or get you into trouble," He announced instantly, tapping his red visor as he informed the conspiratorially, "We're mutants, too."

Neither teen relaxed at all, Billy's eyes nervously darting around the room as he whispered, "I'm sorry! I totally didn't mean to blow anything up and, look-" The boy held up his bright yellow gloved hands as he asserted, "I've got it taken care of so there's no need for you to arrest me, or fine me, or scold me, or... uh... whatever it is you do."

Warren couldn't help snickering into his hand.

"We're not here for any of that," Scott stated kindly, "We're only here because we want to help you." Both teens stared at him, Billy still looking confused and frightened, and his friend looking like she wanted to fry the men with her sunglasses-covered gaze.

"My name is Scott Summers," The tall brunette introduced, holding out his hand for Billy to shake as he nodded towards the tawny-haired man at his side, "And this is Warren Worthington."

"Er," The boy gaped, shaking both of the men's hands and almost smirking when his friend completely refused to do the same. "Hi," He stated, "I'm Billy, Billy Sweet. And this is-"

"Renée," The girl interrupted curtly, glaring at Billy from behind her thick black shades and a curtain of unnaturally glossy blonde hair. Billy blinked in confusion, finally just drawling, "Right... ya, Renée LeB-... uh... LeBoudin..." The girl let out a strangled groan and very nearly bashed her forehead against the table, but Billy continued just as cluelessly, "So, uh, if I'm not in trouble, then what's this about?"

"We represent a man named Professor Charles Xavier," Warren stated genially, offering a crisp, professional business card. It had a large black 'X' in the center and an out-of-state phone number printed beneath it, along with the address _1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, NY_. As Billy inspected the card, Scott continued, "He runs a school in Westchester: The Xavier Institute. It's a school for mutants, and we would like to offer you a chance to come live there and be trained in how to properly control your powers."

"The dish gloves won't cut it forever, kid," Warren remarked sagely, "Wouldn't you prefer a more reliable method of control?"

"Nah," Billy joked coolly, winking at his friend, "I'm good with my rubbers for the moment. I just have to remember to wear 'em." Renée LeBoudin blushed hotly, and, based on Billy's sudden jump and yelp of pain, she kicked him hard beneath the table. Angel snickered.

"This is serious," Scott scolded all of them, giving Warren a particularly dirty look, "You have a responsibility to your fellow men to learn how to control the gift you've been given, so you're not a danger to yourself or others-" The girl fidgeted uncomfortably but Scott was too caught up in his righteous speech to notice, "-otherwise it's like being behind the wheel of a car and not knowing how to drive. Without control, you're a time bomb, and it's inevitable that you'll end up hurting someone you love."

Suddenly guiltily averting her eyes, the blonde hung her head in shame. After a few moments, she snatched the business card away from Billy. Cyclops and Angel sensed rather than saw her eyes going wide just before she looked up at them and demanded in a dangerous, almost eerie voice, "You're de X-Men, ain't you?"

Raising a speculative eyebrow and wondering how the mysterious girl would know such a thing, Scott cautiously replied, "Yes, we are. You've heard of us?"

From behind her thick black shades, Scott Summers could suddenly see two glowing, red-hot flares. The business card in the girl's hands burst into crimson flames that quickly consumed the rest of her small body.

xxXxx

When Tante Mattie arrived back at the LeBeau mansion after an over twenty-four hour bout of acting as a midwife for a young woman in the next county, she was exhausted and really looking forward to relaxing on the couch, cuddling with her grandbaby Juliette, and watching the video of her play. She felt terrible about having been called away from it but knew that Jules would understand. The Princess of Thieves was sweet and loving and, despite her cousins' insistence that she was a spoiled brat, usually quite selfless.

So when Mattie came up the walk only to find the front door standing open, as well as a strong smell of smoke hanging in the air, she immediately groaned; her nice relaxing afternoon had apparently--and literally--gone up in flames.

The plump, elderly black woman rushed inside.

She found four intruders standing amongst the blacked, destroyed living room, a blue furry creature standing over her unconscious little Ani while one redheaded and one brunette woman tried to comfort another sobbing woman. All she could see of the third was white-streaked russet hair.

"What in de Lawd's name you doin in my house?" Mattie shrieked, causing all of the strangers to jump. She paid no mind, rushing straight for Anatole and shoving the furry blue creature off the back of the singed sofa in her haste to check the dark-haired teen for damage.

"I'm very sorry," The redhead stated, quickly standing to her feet, "We didn't mean to intrude, but the boy fainted when he answered the door, and, well... my name is Jean Grey-Summers-"

"Don't care what yo' name is!" Mattie snapped, outraged and very intimidating even as her wrinkled old hands were gently soothing Ani's pale, clammy forehead, "I want yal out dis instant! Ya got no right comin in where you ain't welcome!"

"Please, ma'am," The crying woman sniffed, finally forcing herself to her feet and wearing such a desperate expression on her pretty face that Mattie's heart just about broke. Pushing back damp white bangs, the green-eyed woman held out a picture of Remy and Juliette, pleading, "Remy, is he alive? Does he live here? Where can we find him?"

All previous pity forgotten, Mattie snatched back the framed photograph, raging, "I knew you people'd come poking yo' noses 'round here one day! After everything you did to dat boy, you got a lot of nerve askin after him! Remy don't wanna see any of yal so you best be dragging your worthless behinds as far from N'Awlins as you can get 'em, 'fore I call some of de thieves in fo' de revenge dey been wantin all dese years!"

"Please," Rogue begged again, looking like she was just seconds away from falling to her knees at the old woman's feet, "Ah- Ah need to see him! Ah love him!"

Glaring dangerously, Mattie growled, "Well he don't love you! Get gone and leave him be! Haven't you done enough already, you damned Jezebel?"

"We're not going anywhere," The redhead named Jean insisted forcefully as she gestured around the burnt living room, "We need to find the mutant who did this."

"Stay away from my babies!" Mattie warned, managing to get right in Jean's face despite the half foot of height the telepath had on her, "Dis family has had quite its fill of de X-Men and I can't guarantee yal're comin out alive if you cause us anymore hurt." The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as Mattie and Jean stared each other down. Jean could sense the woman's overwhelming anger and worry; Jean sensed the intense pain Mattie felt during those months she believed Remy to be dead.

The telepath was suddenly disgusted with herself and couldn't help dropping her gaze.

"I think it'd be best if yal left now," The old black woman snapped, turning her venomous glare on Rogue's sobbing form, "And I don't ever wanna see ya again."

No one moved and Mattie was just planning on putting in a call for some thieves to remove the mutants when a loud groan from the couch drew everyone's attention.

Ani was slowly fading into consciousness, grimacing and tenderly rubbing his forehead. Mattie rushed for her baby, but the woman's old bones prevented her from getting to his side before he opened his eyes.

The boy's first sight was that of the fuzzy blue elf that had originally startled him into his fainting spell. The creature had the same friendly grin on its face, though this second one was a bit more sheepish.

"AHHHH!!!!" The dark-haired teenager screamed, scrambling backwards away from the... whatever it was, and falling right off the couch in the process. His green eyes were huge and frozen on the blue thing, his thick, crooked glasses slipping down his nose as he very nearly fainted again.

"_Guten tag_!" The blue thing chirped kindly. Ani instantly recognized the language as German, though it would not have surprised the boy to have heard it speaking in tongues. "Sorry to have frightened you," The creatures went on, doing a graceful, frankly quite impressive flip off of the couch's backrest in order to stand directly in front of Ani. He offered the boy a three-fingered hand as he smiled widely and stated, "I am Kurt Vagner."

"Uh..." Ani gaped, reluctantly accepting the help in getting up to his shaky legs, "Ani LeBeau... you ain't gonna eat me, are ya?"

The blue thing frowned, a spaded tail flicking about behind its head as it replied, "_Nein_. Not unless you try to eat me first."

A light chortle escaped the young man's mouth, a grin on his face as he visibly relaxed and countered, "Probably not... er, sorry for de screaming... I'm, uh, a little hungover and I guess not ready to handle surprises quite yet." The Amazing Nightcrawler returned a happy grin.

However, before he could reply, Mattie's shrill voice cut through the air, "You're _what_, Anatole LeBeau?"

The boy paled significantly, not having realized his Tante was in the room. "Wasn't my fault!" He squeaked fearfully, suddenly looking more like his usual shy self, "I didn't know what dey were feeding me!"

"If you messed up Jules' play for her just cuz you were soused off yo' behind," Mattie threatened scarily, "I'm gonna tan it so hard you ain't never gonna be able to use it again!"

The boy squirmed. "About dat," He mumbled, "Dere was sort of a... mishap where dat was concerned..."

xxXxx

Simon's stomach was tied in guilty knots, so much so that he didn't say even one word about Nico driving their truck during his week.

The blonde teen felt absolutely horrible and almost completely at fault. He didn't listen to Jules the morning before and had no real excuse aside from negligence for having missed her play, for driving her to literally explode.

And now she was missing, probably scared and alone, hurt and angry, and he just wanted to find his baby cousin; he wanted to bring her home and beg for forgiveness.

A crimson fireball suddenly blew up a big chunk of the road directly in front of them. Nico slammed on the brakes and both boys' mouths dropped open in awe as they witnessed their little baby cousin walk into the center of the road. She was completely consumed in crackling, deep crimson flames, the tips of each lick tinged black. With a flick of her wrist, more fireballs shot out of the central inferno she had become and two parked cars were blasted into the air, landing several hundred yards away as nothing but flaming wreckage.

Just when they were wondering why on earth she would want to randomly destroy a city block, they realized that her actions were not, in fact, random at all. She was chasing after three strangers: a red-eyed cyclops, a white-winged angel, and a man made entirely of what looked to be ice.

After just seconds of stunned observation, they could tell their baby cousin was definitely winning the fight.

"_Mon dieu_," Nico gasped, frozen in disbelief of the sheer chaos and power he was witnessing.

Simon was far quicker and hastier in jumping into action, grabbing a staff out of the back seat of the car as he ordered urgently, "Call everyone! Tell dem to get over here right now! I gotta try to calm her down 'fore she hurts herself!"

The older boy nodded, immediately doing as he was told, ranting into his cell phone as he kept a close eye on the action going on in the street.

He watched Billy Sweet running after Jules, looking slightly singed but none the worse for wear as he carried her bag and screamed for her to stop.

He watched the red-eyed cyclops sending red blasts of energy at Jules. He watched those blasts bouncing off the protective fire surrounding her before the girl sent him flying backwards with a well-aimed handful of tossed flames.

He watched the angel swoop in low and end up crashing into a building as his great feathered wings burned, as he screamed in pain. He watched the angel lose the battle against the devil.

He watched the ice man try to freeze his cousin and he watched her fire turn the ice into a dense cloud of angry steam.

He watched Simon run fearlessly into that cloud and not come back out again.

xxXxx

Emile Benoit arrived on the half-wrecked street just in time to see his young cousin Simon come flying out of a thick cloud of steam, tossed through the air like a rag-doll with his shirt on fire, passing him in an instant to get slammed backwards against a solid brick wall. The sickening crack of the boy's skull was barely audible over the chaos of the rest of the scene, and neither was his strangled sob as he slumped to the ground and slipped from consciousness. Emile ran to his cousin's side, quickly putting him out with his thick coat.

The burly man had barely the time to determine that not much visible damage had been done--only superficial burns on his chest because of the thick protective armor he wore and a nasty crack to the back of his head that was soaking his golden blonde hair in red--before Jules stepped out of the dense cloud of steam.

He couldn't decide which disturbed him more, he thought as he sweated and his skin blistered in the intense, smothering heat, the fact that the girl was completely engulfed in crackling, crimson and black flames or that she was sobbing desperately as she ran for Simon.

"I DIDN'T SEE HIM!" She cried, stopping in her tracks when Emile hissed in pain as she drew too close. Standing there, fierce, demonic eyes blurring with tears as everything around her melted, burned, or exploded, Juliette screamed, "I DIDN'T SEE HIM! SIMON, YA IDJIT! WHY'D YA DO DAT? WHY'D YA HAFTA GET IN DE WAY?"

Suddenly swaying on the spot, the girl furiously clutched at handfuls of her wild black hair, yanking hard on the flying locks as they glowed crimson with the expanding flames all around her. She fell to her knees, screaming and sobbing and holding her head like she was afraid it would explode.

Her whole body was burning and burning, growing hotter and hotter, seeming to be sucking heat out of the very air only to magnify it outwards.

_too much_.

_couldn't control it_.

_couldn't stop it_.

_ticking time bomb_.

_hurting the ones she loved_.

"RUN!!!" Juliette shrieked, trying desperately to warn her cousins, giving Emile only barely enough time to get himself and Simon to a safe distance before a deafening explosion of red and hot and dark and fire ripped outwards from her small body.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I don't know how much I'm going to be for writing for awhile. A kid from my high school was killed this last weekend by a drunk. He's like the fifth one in the last few years and I'm pretty down about the senselessness of it all. I'll be alright, but... I dunno. I guess it's worse because I knew him. For fuck's sake, we played teeball together...

Just give me some time. I'll try not to take too long. Thanks, kiddos.

Don't ever drink and drive or I'll hunt you down myself. I'm totally sick of this shit...


	9. Part 9: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Part 9 - Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Remy took a deep breath before stepping into his daughter's neat, almost unbearably empty bedroom, immediately spotting her hugging herself in the center of her bare mattress before rushing out, "You don't have to do dis."

She sniffled--she'd been crying almost constantly for the past week, not eating and not sleeping even with the whole family trying gently to make her--and swiped furiously at her smoldering ruby eyes as she picked up her two heavy suitcases from the floor. "Yes, I do," The girl asserted, her usually happy, energetic voice flat and lifeless as she stared down at her feet, "I don't wanna hurt anybody else."

Stepping forward, Remy gently grabbed her delicate chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. Anyone could tell the girl was exhausted, dark circles beneath her dark eyes standing starkly from the rest of her abnormally pale face, wild black hair tangled and disheveled. She was shaking still--like she had been since he had first seen her in the hospital just after it all happened--and her skin felt clammy and cold instead of feverish. Remy found himself preferring the fever; his baby felt more alive that way, too alive as opposed to just barely so.

"Simon could wake up any minute," The Prince of Thieves argued, desperate to keep his Princess in their castle where he could protect her from all the bad things in the world.

A fresh tear rolled down her smooth cheek. "Or he could never wake up at all," She echoed the words she overheard from the neurologist, her voice breaking on every syllable, "Or he could wake up and be damaged, never be the same. I just can't-" She cut herself off with a loud sob, wrenching her face away from her father as she took a moment to compose herself. Finally, sounding a little deader, Jules stated, "Xavier promised he could help me. I know what dey did to you, Papa, and I'll never trust a one, but... it's de only place of its kind in de whole world. It's de only place where I can learn to not be a danger."

Remy observed her hanging head and slumped shoulders, her whole demeanor of shame and fear, and he found that, like almost everything else she wanted, he couldn't deny his daughter this. He had hoped to never go back to the X-Men, to never see them again. It would be difficult for him. But he found himself once again willing to sacrifice anything to make Juliette happy. "Alright," He stated as he took her bags, "Let's go den. Our flight leaves in a few hours."

xxXxx

Every time Jules closed her eyes, she saw Simon's face, the glimpse of pain and hurt she witnessed when she turned around and threw a ball of crimson fire straight at him. It was just a split second, really--not even enough time for the girl to realize that it wasn't an X-Man she was attacking--but the vision still haunted her.

As did the one of her beloved big cousin lying unconscious in the hospital bed.

Like a tell-tale heart pounding louder and louder from inside her skull.

The guilt was written on her like a scarlet letter, plain for everyone to see as it consumed her soul.

"Yet here's a spot," The girl whispered to herself, holding up her hands and truly expecting them to be stained with her cousin's blood. They were just as immaculate as they'd been every other time she'd looked in the last week but still itched with the phantom tarnish.

"Huh?" Billy grunted tiredly, not his usual exuberant self as they sat side-by-side in the airplane that was taking them away from New Orleans, the place they had both come to love as their home. He would be joining her at Xavier's school, the boy's father seeming relieved to be rid of him as he asked Remy to bring him up with Jules.

"Nothing," Juliette answered, sinking back into her uncomfortable seat, staring at the snacks her father had put on the tray in front of her. She couldn't eat.

Her papa was watching her, she knew, had been since he got back. He was worried and scared and wounded that she was choosing to leave. He had to understand though. He had to. He wouldn't be letting her go if he didn't understand.

_"Simon_._"_

Staring down at her thin, pale hands once again, Jules murmured almost inaudibly, "What, will these hands ne'er be clean?"

xxXxx

Logan met them at the airport. Remy was sure that if the baggage-claim terminal hadn't been so loud they all would have been able to hear the feral man growling deeply. His hand tightened on his daughter's thin shoulder.

"Wolvie," He greeted with a stoic nod, "Been awhile."

"You nearly ran us off the road," The Wolverine snarled, clenching his fists like he was desperately fighting the urge to unsheathe his claws and run Gambit through, "And you smacked me in the head with that stupid stick a' yours."

The auburn-haired Cajun desperately bit back a smirk, weakly apologizing, "Dat first one was an accident. I had no idea you were dere. Your camper needs some better lights on it. As for de stick... well, I guess I did do dat. _Désolé_, _mon ami_. I was trying to get away without you seein me... not dat it did much good..."

All he got was a curt grunt in recognition before Logan glanced in turn at each of the pair of teenagers on either side of the thief. "Billy and Jules?" He questioned gruffly, being as polite and friendly as he was capable.

They both nodded, keeping their heads down.

"Welcome to New York," The stocky mass of solid muscle greeted, grabbing the heavy suitcases out of Jules' hands as he turned towards the direction of his jeep, "I'm Logan."

"He must be the head of public relations," Billy whispered dryly, trying to joke, trying to get Jules to smile. It had absolutely no effect, but Remy was starting to like the boy more and more for his persistent efforts to make his daughter feel even the slightest bit better. Logan didn't seem to appreciate the comment. He made sure Billy got the seat with the broken spring sticking through.

xxXxx

"So let me get this straight," Bobby Drake drawled as he limped to keep up with the rest of the welcome party that was making its way to the front door, "Renée LeBoudin, the crazy fireball girl who almost totally killed me, Scott, and Warren, is coming here?"

"Yes," The Professor stated, easily gliding his wheelchair around a corner.

Nodding, Bobby continued, "But her name really isn't Renée LeBoudin. It's Juliette LeBeau."

"Yup," St. John Allerdyce quipped, grinning maniacally to himself over the impending arrival of a new fire mutant to play with.

"And she's the X-Baby," Bobby went on, still limping, scratching at the bandages covering the copious and highly irritating burns on his forearms, "The one we thought Gambit killed but he didn't because he's alive and coming here, too?"

"Like, that about covers it," Kitty Pryde chirped, humming an upbeat pop song as her long, neat ponytail swayed in time with her steps.

Bobby frowned, clutching at his forehead and whining, "Ow."

"I advised you to remain in the medlab for another few days," Hank McCoy scolded lightly, reading a thick volume of poetry as he hung upside-down from the ceiling, swinging himself between lamps to keep up with the others, "You have a concussion, my young friend, as well as some nasty burns."

"I was bored," The Iceman argued, mussing up his short chestnut brown hair, "And, besides, I wouldn't miss this for anything."

"No one is to bother young Juliette with unnecessary questions," The Professor warned very seriously, "She is in a fragile state, as well as severely untrusting, and may not react well to having her personal life put under a microscope."

"Aw," Bobby moaned, "But then how else are we gonna find out what Gambit's been doing with her all these years?" Xavier glared at the man and accidentally-on-purpose ran over his hurt foot.

Leaving the well-done Iceman to hop around and swear at the top of his lungs, Xavier, Kitty, Hank, and St. John continued down the hallways of the X Mansion. At the front door, they found Rogue and Ororo engaged in a furious screaming match, Jean trying desperately to referee but unable to get a word in.

"Ah don't care what yah say! Ah wanna see him!" Rogue raged, her face flushed red and her fists balled at her sides as she stomped her foot petulantly.

"You are behaving like a spoiled child!" Ororo raged right back, her expression frightening in its serene calm, like the calm right before the Storm conjures a lightning bolt inside the house, "Remy clearly expressed his wish for you not to be present! Please leave at once!"

Glaring, the Southern Belle shouted, "Make meh!"

Raising a hand into the air, the Weather Witch responded, "Gladly!"

"Ororo," The Professor called out, stopping Storm from conjuring lightning into the entryway with only seconds to spare. Embarrassed at having been caught nearly abusing her power, the white-haired woman looked sheepishly down to her feet.

"Rogue," Xavier stated, next turning his gaze to the stubborn Southerner, "I believe it would be best if you were not here for our new students' arrivals."

The woman opened her mouth to argue, but it was already too late; Logan's jeep was heard pulling up to the front of the mansion. Before the Professor could stop them, all the assorted mutants went pouring out the front door.

xxXxx

"REMY!!" Jules heard as she was taking her suitcases out of the back of the feral man's jeep. The girl turned just in time to see a pretty, white-haired black woman literally jump on her father.

He caught her easily, laughing as she sobbed. "Dis mean ya missed Remy, _cher_?" Her fathered joked, though his face betrayed deep affection for the woman. The head of long white hair shook with a nod as its owner continued to cry tears of joy.

After only a few more moments though, the woman pulled away, glaring as she promptly punched Remy hard in the arm. "Ouch!" He pouted, red eyes just barely visible over the top of his dark shades, "What was dat fo'?"

"It was for allowing me to believe that you have been dead for the past thirteen years!" The woman growled, reminding Jules very much of Logan, who, at that very moment, grabbed her and Billy's suitcases and stalked off into the mansion.

Pouting in a way that made Jules think sadly of Simon as a troublesome little boy getting scolded by his _maman_, Remy softly answered, "_Désolé_, Stormy. Woulda told ya if I coulda, but..." He trailed off, glaring at Xavier and Jean before he added, "Never know when someone was gonna be poking 'round in yo' head."

Frowning, the redheaded telepath stated, "Remy, I-"

"Save it," He cut her off shortly, "Ain't here to help you with your guilt." The master thief put a hand supportively, protectively on his daughter's skinny shoulder before declaring, "I'm here for Jules." After a few moments of tense silence, Remy turned to Xavier, stating, "I'd like a word."

"Of course, Remy," The Professor eagerly agreed, nodding to Jean as he suggested, "Perhaps Jules and Billy would like a tour while we speak-"

"Not from her," Remy quickly snapped, throwing daggers at Jean with his covered gaze. He perused his other options before finally requesting, "Stormy, would ya mind?"

The woman smiled, "Not at all. Come, children. I will show you our school."

"Papa?" Jules asked warily, eyeing the tall, white-haired woman and backing up into her father's chest.

"It's alright, _petite_," Remy soothed quietly, giving the girl's shoulder a comforting squeeze, "Stormy's one of de good ones. Her and Logan didn't have nothing to do wit Antarctica."

Relaxing slightly, the teen glared at the remaining X-Men as she requested, "Can ya tell me which ones did?"

Smiling proudly as his daughter's extensive training showed through--"always know your surroundings"--the thief smiled and glance at all those present. "De redhead," He announced as his gaze traveled from Jean to Bobby, "And de one in de bandages..."

That was when he noticed Rogue, trailing off as his face set into a blank stare. It was like a punch in the gut. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. "And _her_," The thief growled, feeling very happy with himself when the untouchable took a wounded step backwards, her green eyes filling with tears.

"Don't want you near her at all, _mon amour_," Gambit went on, glancing to Xavier as he added, "And I don't want her near Jules." It wasn't danger or hatred he feared from Rogue--he could feel nothing but pain and regret and guilt pouring off of her. He feared Rogue's influence. If there was one thing the Cajun Casanova had learned from the last thirteen years of being a single father, it was that the overwhelming majority of women were not above trying to get to him through his daughter. He was not having that from Rogue.

"Remy," The Professor stated solemnly, "Anna-Marie is one of our most skilled instructors. She works one-on-one with students who have the least control in order to better understand how their powers function."

"Don't care," The thief fired back, glaring dangerously, "You _lured_ my daughter here with de promise dat _you_ would help her. Are you gonna do dat or am I taking her home?"

Shooting Rogue a sad, apologetic look, Xavier sighed, "Of course. If that is your wish, then I suppose we can arrange an alternative."

Remy nodded, remarking, "Good." He scanned the remainder of the small crowd, smiling when his red eyes caught the blue ones of St. John Allerdyce. "Ey, Johnny," Remy greeted pleasantly, leaning around his daughter to shake the blonde's hand, "What de heck you doin in dis dump?"

"Work release," Pyro sighed in a thick Australian accent, rolling his eyes and sounding very put-out, "I'm the scared straight program."

Snorting, Remy joked to his daughter, "See, _petite_. Dis is how you'll end up if you don't quit breaking into museums and stealing stuff without my permission."

"Nah, Papa," The Princess of Thieves responded flatly, her voice sad even as she forced the joke she knew her father wanted to hear, "Dat's what'll happen to me if I get _caught_ breaking into museums and stealing stuff without your permission, and since dat ain't ever gonna happen, I think I'll be alright."

Remy smiled, "Good girl."

"Nice to meet ya, Sheila," The shaggy blonde Aussie stated pleasantly, holding out his hand, "Name's St. John."

"Jules," The girl replied, briefly shaking the offered hand and vaguely noting something rather... off about its owner.

With a grin, the slim man announced, "I'm another fire bug like you. So, how's about it, love? Give us a flame to play with?"

Her face falling darkly along with her gaze, Jules answered curtly, "No." She turned away, hanging her head and hiding tears behind a curtain of sleek black hair as she stomped towards the big house. Billy was quick to follow, as was Storm

Remy watched his daughter go, knowing that she was strong enough to get through this and praying fervently that nothing more would go wrong, that she wouldn't have to be any stronger. Still, Jules would not be alright until Simon woke up; he didn't want to even think about what would happen if his nephew actually died...

Turning back around, the thief fixed the Professor with a stern glare. "Listen up, Xavier," He warned, very aware that several of the other mutants were listening in, "I don't want no funny business. I know what I did was kidnapping, but don't you even think of trying to take Jules away from me. Clear?"

After a brief moment of thought, the man nodded, responding, "I have no wish to remove young Juliette from the happy family you have given her. While I may not approve of your means, growing up in a stable environment was probably more beneficial to the girl's development than living as a ward in a boarding school would have been."

"Good," Remy stated, nodding stoically, "In dat case, dere are a few things you should know about my girl..."

He took a deep breath before listing, "Jules has been a handful of trouble since de moment I took her home. She was walking and talking at six months, and we started having to keep her from wandering into de swamp. She was determined to make friends with a gator.

"When she was two, she found her way onto de high dive at de local pool. She was fearless and having de time of her life up dat high, but de second I saw and told her to stay where she was, de stubborn girl dove off head fist.

"When she turned five, I enrolled her in kindergarten. She started a fist fight de first day... with de teacher.

"When she was six, she started hussling high school kids at poker. De entire senior class of Acadiana High lost dere shorts to my baby girl.

"Seven was de first and only time I ever caught her trying to steal a car... keep in mind: _caught_. 'Cording to her cousin Christien, de girl could drive like a pro by seven-and-a-half so dere must have been plenty of times she got away with it.

"When she was eight, she beat an eighteen-year-old on one of the most demanding training courses de thieves have and she still won't let him forget it. De same year, she started breaking into museums at night. First, it was just because she was bored and liked de places, but when one banned her during de day, she came back and, with de help of one of her cousins, rearranged every single exhibit. Later, after getting banned again, she stole an entire suit of armor.

"At nine, she knew enough about computers and security systems to break into and completely reprogram city hall. After he closed down one of her after-school drama programs, our mayor was locked out of his office for two weeks. An anonymous letter let him know that it would be in his best interests to restore the program.

"When she was ten, she got real good at picking pockets. During our family's thanksgiving dinner, she stole everyone's wallets, right out from under noses of no less than a dozen professional thieves, and den ransomed dem off for rights to de leftovers.

"Now, my father don't know dis, but I started bringing Jules along on jobs with me when she turned eleven. I've never had a better partner. She can walk in the shadows, so graceful and quiet that she becomes them. She's strong and she's got a great head on her shoulders. And de way she moves... well, it's almost like she can fly. She's a valuable asset.

"Twelve was de first time a mutant hater ever tried to touch her. She broke his femur in three places..."

The thief trailed off for a few moments, gauging the myriad of impressed and shocked reactions from the group around him before finally finishing, "And now... now she bursts into flames when she gets angry, stressed, or scared... _DO NOT_ take your eyes off her. I can't guarantee you'll have the lack of reaction you got after hurting me if _anything_ happens to Jules. She's everybody's baby... dey're already gonna be pissed I let her come here so don't do anything dat'll make me regret it."

"I understand," Xavier stated quietly, "And I can assure you that no harm will come to Juliette while she is in my care."

"Good," The thief responded, "Den I'd like to hear how exactly you plan on helping her."

With a tired half-smile, the Professor answered, "Truthfully, I will not have a concrete plan of action until Juliette has been examined by Hank and had her powers fully gauged by Jean and myself."

"Don't want her in my girl's head," Remy growled, glaring at the redhead who refused to leave Xavier's side.

Sighing, the Professor announced, "I do not believe you will have to worry about that. Thus far, I have not even been able to sense Juliette telepathically. Even now when we were speaking face-to-face, psychically she was not there... the girl has shields rivaling your own, my friend."

"Ain't your friend," The auburn-haired Cajun snapped automatically, "And dat ain't good enough. Can't you help her without peeping in her head?"

Again, Xavier gave a watery smile as he offered, "I suppose I can try..."

xxXxx

"And this is the lake," The kind, white-haired woman, Ororo, Jules remembered, Logan's wife and the mother of his three children, stated as she continued to guide the two teens around the Xavier campus, "In the summer, when it is not quite so cold, you can usually find the majority of our students and faculty in or near it."

They'd been everywhere and found out that the school had pretty much everything: swimming pools, hot tubs, media rooms, a giant library, indoor racquetball courts, for God's sakes. Billy was impressed and excited. Jules was not.

She didn't see the point. She wasn't at Xavier's school to have a vacation; she was there to work. She couldn't go home until she was no longer a danger and the girl desperately wanted to go home.

A tuned-out ten-minute walk later, she found herself in the building once again, on an elevator going down. down. down. "Where we goin?" Jules mumbled, confused, disoriented, and a little afraid of just how far she'd allowed her mind to wander.

"The medlab, my child," Storm answered, her voice airy and kind, "All incoming students receive examinations in order to determine the extent of their physical mutations. Afterwards, you will meet with the Professor to have your other powers measured and to discuss the course you wish to follow in learning to control them."

"I just had a stupid physical a few weeks ago!" Jules cried out indignantly, rubbing her bony arms as she vividly recalled getting stuck with all those needles, definitely not looking forward to having to go through it again. "De quacks said dat my head's too thick," The girl announced, "And my temperature's too high. Can't your quack just talk to de other quacks instead of making me into a pincushion again?"

Smiling fondly down at the raven-haired teen as the elevator came to a smooth halt, Ororo commented, "I see your eyes are not the only thing you inherited from my brother, little one... and no. Most normal physicians are completely out of their element when examining mutants. Our physiologies are varied and unique, and they do not always know what to look for, what physical anomalies will help in understanding how our powers function."

"Come on, Jules," Billy prodded, reaching out to give the girl's hand a comforting squeeze, "It's not so bad. I'll be there with you and I'm sure your dad will be, too. It'll be over before you know it."

Juliette was still not pleased but did feel a little better holding Billy's hand. The thick rubber gloves he wore would give him a bit of protection in case her skin temperature spiked again, and it felt nice to just have... contact, to know someone was there with her, that someone was in the same boat.

They entered the medlab still holding hands, much to the shock, dismay, and outrage of Remy, who had been chatting with Hank as he awaited his daughter's arrival. "You tryin to give me a heart attack, _petite_?" The thief yelped as he grabbed Billy by the scruff of the neck and yanked him away. He glared at the frightened teenager before turning to his annoyed daughter and declaring, "No boys 'til you're thirty!"

"Papa," The girl growled, her cheeks turning pink, "Quit being weird! And put Billy down! He didn't do nothin!"

Not wanting a fight, Remy grudgingly obliged but kept his eyes trained on the terrified lad as he scurried off to hide behind Ororo. The Weather Witch was trying very hard to contain her giggles.

"Well, I see the guests of honor have finally arrived," Hank McCoy joked, leaping down from his upside-down perch on the ceiling. The Beast was wearing a white lab coat over his massive, blue furry body and enthusiastically introduced himself to both teens with a gracefully offered clawed hand, "I am Doctor Henry McCoy, but you may call me Hank. This physical won't be too demanding, but I will need the two of you to change into some gowns before we begin." He pointed to a big hairy claw straight down a small hallway as he added, "Everything you need you will find in the changing rooms."

The two kids moved to comply, Billy nervously skirting the still glaring Remy as Jules followed behind him, a continuous stream of French swears pouring from her mouth. "Separate rooms!" Remy shouted desperately.

"I KNOW, PAPA!! DAMN!!" Jules screamed back, slamming a door behind herself. Even after, the adults could hear a furious string of obscenities as she stomped about.

"She truly is your daughter I see," Hank commented wryly, readying his supplies as he smiled at Remy.

The thief returned a proud grin.

xxXxx

For the second time in less than a month, Jules had gotten stuck with a barrage of needles. Needless to say, she was not a happy camper and especially didn't appreciate having been offered cartoon character bandaids and a lollipop for her troubles by the Beast.

The girl was sulking, glaring at Hank while he ran the blood work and also at Billy while the brunette happily sucked on his own lollipop and admired the Ninja Turtles bandaid on his arm. The whole damn world was against her.

Remy had his arm around his daughter's shoulders, though he didn't think she had even noticed yet, and was anxiously awaiting the results of Hank's comprehensive physical. He knew that the fuzzy blue man would discover whatever the other doctors had missed about Jules' abnormal body temperature and be able to at least partly explain the nature of her powers.

"Intriguing," The doctor drawled as his dexterous clawed fingers continued to fly over the keyboard, as more graphs and symbols continued to flash on the screen.

"Gonna let de rest of us in on it?" Remy whined as he hugged Juliette tightly against his side. She really hadn't noticed her father before that moment, flinching and then blinking at her surroundings in confusion and disorientation that bordered on panic. The behavior was highly unnerving.

"Oh, yes," Hank answered, adjusting his small black glasses as he returned to the small group with a stack of charts. "Young William," He announced, smiling kindly at the boy, "You are in excellent health. Your blood work did reveal a staggeringly high sodium level, but I theorize that it aids your body in more effectively conducting electrical currents. We will need to monitor it and make sure it does not develop into hypertension."

"Right on," Billy chirped, his chapped lips stained bright purple as he saluted with his grape-flavored lollipop.

Remy squirmed impatiently, resenting the fact that the surfer boy had gotten his results first when Jules' case was so much more urgent.

Beast turned to the girl next, his kind smile turning forced as he stated, "You, my dear, have an amazing physiology."

"Yippee," Jules grumbled crankily, only finally behaving after receiving a stern glare from her father. "Fine," She sighed, sitting up a little straighter on the gurney, "What's so amazing about it?"

"For starters," Hank stated as he held up a series of x-rays and CT scans, "Your skull is not just abnormally thick. It is abnormally dense, and most of your other bones appear to share that density. I believe it is a defensive mutation, designed to protect your body from the fires you can create, as well as any blows you may suffer. Here-" He pointed towards Jules' spine in an x-ray "-you can see that your vertebrae are actually pulling apart, causing a lengthening of your spine. I would expect a growth spurt from you in the very near future, as well as a certain amount of increased flexibility. This portion of the brain-" He pointed to a series of MRI images "-is called the hypothalamus. It is the area that is responsible for regulating emotions, sexuality, hunger, thirst, circadian cycles, and, most importantly for you, body temperature. Your hypothalamus is three times the upper limit of average and also seems to have partially invaded your prefrontal lobe. It has probably been this way for most, if not all of your life, but in entering adolescence, the prefrontal lobe actually begins to myelinate itself, explaining the recent appearance of your pyrokinetic abilities. The prefrontal lobe is associated with telekinesis, so it would make sense that your body combined it with your hypothalamus in order to give you control over the fires you can create, suggesting then that there is hope for you to gain mastery over your powers."

"So I'm dense, bendy, and got a weird brain," The Princess of Thieves grumbled crossly, "Dat was definitely worth all de needles." Remy fixed her with another stern, fatherly glare and she quickly went back to sulking in silence.

"Well then," Hank announced, nervously clearing his throat in attempt to dissipate some of the obvious tension in the room, "My examinations are complete. We should make our way up to the Danger Room for bio-monitored power demonstrations."

Even though she remained silent, Remy could feel his daughter shudder beneath his arm.

xxXxx

**Xavier Institute Student Profile No. 2975-43.**

**Name: **Juliette Renée LeBeau.

**Race: **Caucasian.

**Nationality: **American; Cajun.

**Age: **13.

**Height: **4'11".

**Weight: **108 lbs.

**Eye Color: **Red irises, black sclera.

**Hair Color: **Black.

**Physical Mutations:** Forehead, red horns; Fingers and toes, red nails; Eyes, red irises, black sclera.

**Other Physical Markings:** None.

**Powers: **Confirmed pyrokinesis and telepathic blocks.

**Known Aliases:** Renée LeBoudin.

"Dat ain't no alias," Remy insisted grumpily, watching over Kitty Pryde's shoulder as she typed up a personnel file for his daughter. He really didn't like the idea of Jules being in the X-Men's computer, but she had made him promise to behave himself. The thief just wished the scowling photo of his Jules didn't look so much like a mug shot. It seemed... ominous.

"Like, that's the name she gave when Scott and Warren first ran into her," Kitty argued, gently pushing Gambit away from her work, "I'm supposed to include any names she's ever called herself by... like, any others I should add?"

Glaring dangerously, Remy turned back to the large observation window of the control room and snapped, "No." There was no way he was telling the X-Men that most of the Guild still referred to his daughter as the Princess. "How you doin in dere, _petite_?" He called through the intercom, watching with possessive rage as Hank and Jean attached electrodes and sensors to her small body.

Frowning up at the tinted glass she knew her father was behind, Jules sarcastically answered, "Just peachy, Papa. It's like a day at de zoo." She did not like the situation one bit. The girl dreaded having to demonstrate her powers and was beginning to get very annoyed by the Jean woman's continued attempts to peek inside her head.

Every few minutes, she could feel a slight... nudge against her forehead, like someone knocking for entrance. Jules unconsciously fought back each time, sending the redheaded telepath staggering backwards slightly with a frustrated look on her face. The girl didn't think Jean realized that she knew what the woman was trying to do. She hadn't called her on it... yet.

One more time marked the last straw, the demonic teen glaring as she snapped, "I gotta break your damn nose to get de point across? Stay out of my fucken head!"

Jean's expression was startled and then guilty as she answered, "I'm sorry... it's just dangerous for you to do this without someone in your mind to keep you from going out of control and hurting yourself."

Jules went back to staring down at the floor, swallowing down tears as more memories of her cousin flashed behind her eyes. "Ain't myself I'm worried about hurtin'," She muttered quietly.

"I'm here!!" St. John yelled happily as he came bounding into the room, "Time for some _fire_!!"

"Johnny," Jean impatiently admonished, "This isn't playtime. You're only here to take control of the fire if it goes out of control."

"Ya, ya," The Aussie chirped, dismissing her concerns with a flippant wave as he smiled warmly at Juliette, "I'm just looking forward to seeing what the Sheila can do!"

"We are ready to begin," Came the Professor's voice over the loud speaker, alerting everyone to his presence in the control room. Jean and Beast nodded, giving Jules encouraging smiles as they left. With only Pyro remaining, the girl began to panic. She felt like a sideshow and all the freaks were about to escape.

"Don't worry, love," The smiling blonde offered as he took a step forward, "You've got nothing to be afraid of."

Not really encouraged, the girl took a deep breath and concentrated hard on calling up the power she really did fear. It wasn't long before the stress and terror of the situation elicited a response from her body, before she began to feel her skin growing hot, her eyes burning as her vision dimmed with red. Her clenched fists were almost melting from the inside out, suddenly bursting into two crackling balls of crimson and black fire.

She heard Johnny give a cheer. The girl watched, both fascinated and horrified, as the flames traveled higher up her lean arms, threatening to engulf her body once more. She fought it, finding that she could keep the fire at bay for a short time with a great amount of concentration and effort. Jules was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of her power.

The flames kept growing, glowing black and red as they swallowed her up. Once again, she was so _hot_, so hot she _couldn't breathe_. She seemed to be sucking heat and energy straight out of the air. It was too hot, too much, and she couldn't put it out.

Terrified, the girl began to panic as tears slid down her face, as she looked up to the black tinted window and helplessly called out, "Papa!"

"Shut it down!!" Remy demanded, scared out of his wits at seeing his daughter consumed in flames. It was the first time he'd witnessed her powers first hand and he completely understood exactly why she was so completely afraid of them. He could tell just by the look on her face that she had zero control.

"Shut it down, Xavier!!" He bellowed furiously. When the Professor did nothing, he growled and rushed to the intercom, screaming, "Johnny! Put her out!"

"Right-o," The blonde stated, saluting the dark tinted window. He focused his mind on the fire, on trying to assume control of it. He was very puzzled to find that it did not obey. In fact, the stubborn blaze didn't feel... right... like it was some sort of rebellious bastard cousin of the fire he knew and loved...

Pyro then uttered two words that made both Remy's and Jules' minds descend into complete panic: "Uh oh..."

The explosion was inevitable, Jules' brilliant red and black fire continuing to grow exponentially with every passing second, nearly twenty feet across when she finally lost control and detonated. The force of the blast shook the Xavier mansion and caused an earthquake-like tremor to rip through the surrounding mile radius.

Remy barely registered St. John stumbling out of the wreckage of the Danger Room--the door was blown off its hinges--as he went rushing in for his daughter. She was knocked out, lying still in the center of a smoldering crater of scorched and melted metal. She didn't look to have been at all harmed by the fiery explosion but her breathing was very fast and, as Remy discovered when he tried to touch her, the girl's skin felt like an active kiln. Ignoring the blistering burns on both his hands, Remy could only... wait.

xxXxx

"Dis ain't fair!!" Nicolas LeBeau raged, trying to disguise the fact that his hands were shaking by running them through his shaggy brown hair as he paced the kitchen of his grandfather's mansion. He could almost look around and let himself forget everything that had happened in the past week, except that an opaque sheet of plastic was still blocking the wrecked living room, except that Simon wasn't there, or Jules, or Uncle Remy...

"How could she just _leave_?" The young man yelled again, pulling on his hair nearly hard enough to pull it clean out by the roots, "What was she thinking? Dis wasn't her fault and we need her and Uncle Remy here!! It ain't fair and it ain't right!"

"You been paying attention?" Theo asked, feeling quite numb as he leaned up against the kitchen counter... he was also hungry... and Tante's presence was yet another that was missing so he couldn't do much about that. "We all saw dis coming," The dark-haired man announced, "She's hardly been talking, shying away from everyone, and... she's afraid to touch people... she feels guilty and she's scared out of her mind. If dis helps her, if it's what she needs to be herself again, den I say to let her go."

Emile gave a nod of agreement, unusually quiet as he sat on the floor and repeatedly hit the back of his head against the empty and cool oven, seeming to be recreating the horrifying crack of Simon's skull against the wall that he had been unfortunate enough to witness. He didn't want Jules gone anymore than anyone else did, but... he'd seen what she could do... he knew that if she didn't gain control then she _was_ going to kill someone... the thief just hoped that she hadn't already done so, that Simon would pull through. The dark-haired man hated that he was... scared of what he'd seen from his sweet little cousin.

Seated at the bar, Anatole and Christien collectively and silently read the note they'd found to themselves for perhaps the hundredth time since its discovery. Jules familiar spiky scrawl stretched out across the scrap with only the words "_Dear everyone, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt anyone else so I'm going to Xavier's school. Sorry. I love you and I'll be back someday. Jules._"

Sniffling, Christien ran his large hand over his pale freckled face, shoving ginger fringe out of his eyes. This sucked. It felt like a big part of him was just... gone. Jules was his cousin, but she was also his best friend and he was... hurt and scared that she would leave him like that. Their family was better off with her around, no matter how dangerous she was. She was... their beating heart and they all felt so empty without her.

Anatole blamed himself, continually thinking of how much better this situation could have turned out. They always expected Juliette to get powers when she entered adolescence, but he guessed they'd just gotten... lazy about watching out for her. It had been his fault they weren't at the play, letting himself get drunk at that party, and it was his fault she'd been hurt and angry enough to literally explode.

"How did Jules _ever_ talk Uncle Remy into dis?" Nico demanded sharply, still pacing and angry but very obviously on the verge of losing it. He'd barely slept or eaten on the last week, having been completely consumed with worrying about the welfare of Simon and Juliette. He blamed himself, for missing the play, for not finding his cousin in time to help her, for letting his brother confront Jules by himself... it was Nico's job to take care of the younger kids. He was the oldest and it had been his job ever since Simon was born. But now... he'd failed and _everything_ was falling apart.

"Cuz she's got him wrapped 'round her little finger," A new voice commented from the doorway, making all the young men present jump and turn to find Jean-Luc standing there with a grim, exhausted look on his weathered face. He held up his hand to cut Christien off when the redhead opened his mouth and held up Jules' letter. "Remy just called from New York," The old man stated flatly, "He told me."

"What else did he say?" Nico asked hopefully, "When dey coming back? Is Jules doing alright? Are de X-Men actually gonna be able to help her?"

Jean-Luc dropped down into an empty barstool, helplessly resting his forehead down onto the cool marble countertop as he reported, "I'm afraid de news ain't good..."

xxXxx

"Feeling better, _mon amour_?" Remy asked quietly, reclining lazily in a small hospital bed with his daughter at his side, reaching out with bandaged hands to gently pet her tousled black hair.

Lying weakly against his chest in their private medlab room, Juliette LeBeau slowly shook her head. "No, Papa," She choked tearfully, eyes wet and hazy as she stared at the wall, "I ain't."

"Everything's gonna be ok," Her father promised, pulling the girl's slight, unresponsive form even closer into his comforting embrace. She did not reply but he could sense her disbelief. Soothingly rubbing his large hand down her thin, shaking back, Remy wondered out loud, "I ever tell you about when I first got my powers?"

Sniffling, Jules answered, "Ya. Assassins chased you into a condemned building and you accidentally brought it down right on top of 'em."

"Dat's right," He agreed, wishful and nostalgic and comfortable with his baby girl so close to him, "But what I didn't tell you was dat Lapin spent about two months in traction because of it... he'd gone in to help me and didn't get out in time."

Moving herself closer to her papa's warm body, listening to his heart beat through his strong, solid chest, Jules grumbled, "Dat supposed to make it ok for me to keep blowin other people up?"

Remy fought a sardonic smile. "_Non_," He said, weaving a lock of wild black hair between his heavily bandaged fingers, "Don't make it ok and don't make it feel any less horrible, but... it happens. Ain't no one to blame, least of all yourself. If Simon was awake, he'd be telling you de same thing."

"But he ain't awake," The girl spat in reply, her bitter and resentful tone in opposition to the way she clung more tightly to the auburn-haired thief sharing her small hospital bed, "He ain't awake and it's my fault."

Unable to think of anything else to say, both cursing themselves for their failures, short-comings, and vices, the Prince and his Princess lapsed into a tense silence. They both knew what was coming, that Jules would ask her father to leave and that Remy, like always, would give her anything she wanted. They had to enjoy their last moments together with that sad eventuality hanging over their heads.

xxXxx

"This is absolutely remarkable!" Henry McCoy excitedly declared, his skilled fingers flying over his keyboard as he stared at the two almost indentical DNA profiles depicted, "Do you know the chances of this amount of genetic similarity between two unrelated individuals occurring naturally is? The odds are astronomical!"

Pensively tenting his fingers in front of his thin lips, Professor X leaned back in his wheelchair and asked, "Are you saying that, from a scientific standpoint, Remy and Juliette could easily pass for a genetic father and daughter?"

"Yes!" Beast declared, excited over the potential breakthroughs this discovery represented, "If I didn't know any better, then I would be quite hesitant to believe they were not directly related! They could easily fool any paternity test!"

"Is there any way of isolating how much of the similarity was a result of whatever Remy did when he resurrected her?" Xavier questioned flatly.

Scratching his head, Beast replied, "Well... no. I can theorize in an abstract sense, but the genes altered by that action have long since been incorporated into the girl's base DNA."

Pausing for a moment as he looked over the healing forms of Scott and Warren, the Professor questioned, "What do you theorize?"

"Remy definitely altered her make-up," Hank surmised, "Essentially it was like... a second instance of mutation, which she was probably more susceptible to in the first place because mutant DNA has a tendency to be less stable than that of humans. Her eyes were affected, obviously, and most likely her mind, if the presence of the Remy-like telepathic blocks is any indication. I can assume she was originally born with some type of pyrokinetic-based power that merged with Remy's transferred kinetic power to create a sort of... hybrid ability."

Intrigued, Professor X arched one fine eyebrow as an indication for the Beast to continue.

"From the readings gathered during the demonstration," Hank said, turning back to his keyboard and monitor to call up a series of numbers and graphs, "I believe that Juliette originally had a power similar to the more typical pyrokinetic abilities we encounter, in that she would be able to control fire, to a certain degree, but not start any independently. Remy's power is what gives her the ability to ignite her own fires. My instruments picked up a highly abnormal amount of molecular excitement in the air around her, much like what I have been able to read from Remy's charged cards on previous occasion. This seems to give her the initial spark needed to create the fire.

"After that, her body began sucking in an exponentially great amount of energy. I'm afraid that she is able to produce the excitability to start the fire, but once it is started, she cannot stop it. Her body unconsciously taps into the potential bio-kinetic energy from the very air and feeds that energy through her fire, turning it into... something else entirely...

"Johnny's inability to exert any significant amount of control over the blaze suggests that it is an independent and never before seen combination of heat and kinetic energy. Its heat element is part of the original power, the reason Juliette's body temperature spiked so sharply and the reason her bones developed to sustain such massive temperatures. The kinetic element causes the flames to have their unusual color and unstable nature. It also seems to give her a phenomenal amount of control, allowing her to actually consume something in flames yet still _choose _whether or not to let it burn and or explode by tapping into its potential kinetic energy or not. However, at a certain point, her energy intake overwhelms her ability to control the fire and she self-detonates as a means of expelling the excess."

"What class mutant would you put her in?" Xavier inquired, highly intrigued by Hank's description of the girl's incredible power.

"Hard to say," Best mused, scratching his fuzzy blue chin as he adjusted his glasses and lab coat, "Definitely at least Alpha, but... she can suck energy straight out of the air and, when she doesn't panic, can usually maintain it quite well. After she woke up, she wasn't even tired. She definitely has Omega-level potential but desperately needs control, especially since her power is so strongly tied to her emotions..."

xxXxx

Jules was crying, the temperature inside the jeep had climbed to well over 100 degrees, and Logan was getting very nervous. Sure he had a healing ability, but that didn't mean it would hurt any less if the slip of a girl burst into flames and scorched all the flesh from his Adamantium-coated bones.

But the Wolverine had absolutely no idea what to say to get Juliette to calm down. They were almost back to the manor after dropping Gumbo off at the airport, but it was raining heavily; the roads were slick and he could only go so fast.

Luckily, he'd picked up a thing or two from the years dealing with his wife and two daughters, learned that girls were sometimes sensitive and there wasn't anything that would get them to stop crying but letting them cry. Heedless of the heat blisters he would undoubtedly receive, Logan slung a thick arm around Juliette's thin, shaking shoulders. He pulled her against his side and let her sob miserably into his chest.

By the time they pulled up the driveway at Xavier's, her eyes were dry. Sniffling as she picked her head up, Jules wiped the tears off of her pale, blotchy cheeks and offered the feral a weak, wordless smile of thanks for his kind gesture.

Gazing down at the girl, Logan slowly felt himself becoming hypnotized by the smoldering rubies set deep in the eyes of the Princess of Thieves, felt himself sinking down into the depths of nothingness with not even a passing thought of resistance...

The slam of the car door broke him out of the unnerving trance. He blinked, taking several moments to remember where he was and realize that Jules had gotten out of the car. She was walking off towards the front door.

A cloud of steam surrounded her wraith-like body, a dark, ethereal mist materializing as the cool rain fell hissing against her burning white skin. She was otherworldly, one of those wild, mysterious spirits that were older than legend, that could lead men to paradise or utter destruction...

As she entered the school, Logan suddenly found himself slightly frightened of the creature that would now haunt their halls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

My head hurts. I don't recommend ever taking a body check to the face.

Anyways, hope you guys liked it! Sorry about the long wait, but thanks very much for being patient!

Reviews make me happy. A happy author is a productive author.


	10. Part 10: It Pricks Like Thorn

Part 10 - It Pricks Like Thorn

For Charles Xavier, one-on-one sessions with Juliette LeBeau were quite literally like beating his bald head against a thick brick wall. The girl was stubborn; she mistrusted him and the vast majority of his X-Men; she was only cooperating with his attempts at getting into her head--in explicit violation of her father's orders to both of them--because the Professor had promised that, by doing so, he would be able to put a harness on her powers.

But she had a mind that seemed to be completely encased in concrete. It wasn't like Remy's pre-Antarctica static interference; it was an almost exact copy of the mental fortress he retreated to afterwards.

After a month, Xavier was just starting to feel the structure weaken but he was fairly sure it was not of his own doing. It was probably a combination of things that was bringing Jules' shield down: depression, loneliness, home-sickness, guilt. Exhaustion was certainly a part of it, the young teen constantly looking tired and haggard, drained by the intense training she was subjecting herself to, as well as her constant efforts to just keep from an emotional breakdown as her cousin Simon entered into week five of the coma she blamed herself for entirely.

Yes, Xavier was going to have to talk to Ororo again to make sure the girl was eating and sleeping properly. It wouldn't do anyone any good for her to work herself into a collapse or explosion.

"I think that is all for today," The Professor stated, leaning away from the slight teen and rubbing his sore forehead. Juliette opened her smoldering ruby eyes, frowning and quite obviously frustrated. Offering a weak smile, the telepath soothed, "We are making progress. You must have patience."

"Ya, ya," She grumbled, wincing as she pushed herself to her feet. After swaying precariously for a moment on sore, overworked limbs, the girl regained her balance and complained, "You say de same thing every time and every time I sit here for hours and never feel a thing. How is dat progress?"

Xavier offered a smile, gently stating, "You will have to just take my word for it."

"Fricken telepaths," The girl grunted, turning on her heel and stomping out of the richly decorated office, "Always gotta be all spooky, can't ever just talk normal..."

"Hey! Jules! JULES!! WAIT UP!!" It was Billy, again, Billy Sweet running towards her down the hallway as he awkwardly juggled an armful of thick textbooks. Juliette rolled her eyes at the antics of her friend.

When he finally caught up, panting and finally losing control over the mass of books that went tumbling to the floor at Jules' feet, Billy offered a sheepish grin and asked, "How was Spook Time?"

"Same as always," The girl sighed, trying to hide her flinch of pain as she kneeled to help Billy gather his books, "Whatever he's doin' ain't working and I'm supposed to be _patient_... hey, I'm gonna blow off math and head to town. Wanna come?"

Frowning nervously, Billy replied, "We're not supposed to go without an escort. I've heard some pretty bad stories about the mutant hatred in this town."

"Scared?" Jules challenged coldly, mockingly, shoving books into the boy's arms and already turning her back on him. She needed to get out of the Xavier Mansion and she wasn't about to let some stupid rule keep her from doing so. She had never been one for obeying the rules.

"Hey! Wait!" Billy called, jogging to catch up and still struggling with the armful of books, "I never said I was scared! Or that I wouldn't go! Just... uh... I wasn't sure you knew the rule."

"Know it, hate it, gonna break it," The girl chanted, her eyes fixed dead ahead as the back of her skull began to throb. She had recently started getting headaches after her sessions with Xavier. She hadn't told him, afraid that he would stop or go slower if he knew what he was doing, and she hoped that they meant she actually was making the progress he professed. However, that didn't make them any less annoying or painful.

Class was not a good place to deal with the headaches. The more people that were around, the worse the headaches got. Sometimes, it felt like her skull was cracking, like razor sharp thorns were trying to bore their ways through the cracks...

"Let's go," She announced, grabbing Billy by the elbow as she stealthily slipped down an abandoned hallway.

xxXxx

Remy wasn't sure if he was upset of grateful over his father's decree that no one within the immediate LeBeau family would be going on jobs until their situation started to turn for the better.

On the one hand, he would welcome the distraction a job would bring, welcome anything to keep him from thinking about Simon and Juliette.

On the other hand, he probably couldn't concentrate long enough to pull off a successful job. Besides, Remy knew that he was needed at home.

Henri and Mercy were absolute wrecks and he had hardly seen either outside of Simon's hospital room. Nico and Ani were just as bad, devotedly keeping watch over their brother whenever time would allow. Unfortunately, they were still expected to attend school and go home to sleep and eat.

Remy had put himself in charge of his young nephews, refusing to allow either to let his grief and worry affect his physical wellbeing.

Christien wasn't doing so well either. He seemed lost without Jules, his partner-in-crime and closest friend. He was hurt that she'd left when he needed her, but also... angry. The _Élan _just didn't understand her self-enacted exile and was starting to show obvious signs of resentment because of it.

On top of that, Jean-Luc's temper was volatile to anyone outside the immediate family, Tante hardly found the time or energy to cook, Theo's stomach was always growling, and Emile just didn't talk much anymore.

And Remy missed his daughter.

Remy wanted to fix it.

He wanted his family back. He would do _anything_ for this nightmare to end.

xxXxx

"Have you seen Jules?" Bobby Drake asked as he popped his head into Ororo Monroe's greenhouse loft.

The Economics teacher was rocking and humming to her son, James, trying to get him to go down for an afternoon nap. Airily, the white-haired woman replied, "I have not. Has the girl taken to skipping lessons once more?"

"Seems like it," The Iceman answered, entering the humid, fragrant room and taking a seat beside Ororo on a low wooden bench, giving James' chin a light tickle, "She missed my class again, and Billy was gone, too, so I figured she must've dragged him along... can you talk to her? She doesn't really listen to anyone but you and Logan."

"I will try," Storm answered quietly, soothing her cranky son with more soft touches, "But she is troubled. I have made many efforts to counsel her through her guilt and depression, but I do not believe I have gotten through."

Raking long fingers through his short brown hair, Bobby responded, "Well, at least you can talk to her and get more than pissed off grunts... she _really _doesn't like me."

Smiling lightly and laughing beneath her breath, Storm reminded, "You did call her a criminal... and not in the nice way she prefers."

"The little brat lifted my wallet!" The Iceman cried indignantly, making James start screaming and earning himself a glare from Ororo. The brunette sheepishly hung his head.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," The Professor stated, smiling warmly as he wheeled himself into the greenhouse loft. With a gentle mental caress, he quieted James' cries almost instantly, sending the boy into a peaceful slumber.

Storm smiled back, "Not at all, Professor. To what do I owe the visit?"

"I'm afraid this is concerning young Juliette," He answered calmly, very seriously.

"What a coincidence," Bobby chirped, "Did she skip your class and steal your wallet, too?"

The Professor frowned. "No," He stated flatly, "Not that I know of..." His hand twitched on the armrest of his wheelchair, like he was fighting the urge to reach in his pocket and check. Pushing down the inclination, Xavier continued, "I believe Juliette is skipping meals again. Logan has had to kick her out of the Danger Room on more than one occasion when she has worked herself into exhaustion, and her roommate has informed me that she rarely sleeps. I was wondering if you could attempt to speak with her again."

"Of course," Ororo replied, growing very worried about the lovely little girl. She put up a hard front, but she trusted Storm, let her see the tender child she truly was. Storm didn't want her to lose that innocence.

Feeling out of place, Bobby stuck his hands into his pockets. His eyes went wide when he failed to find his wallet yet again. "Son of a bitch..." The Iceman gaped.

xxXxx

"Ok... what do you think of Electron?" Billy Sweet asked, jogging alongside Juliette as he read potential codenames off the list he'd been compiling. Most of the other students at Xavier's school had codenames and he'd gotten it into his head that he should have one as well so he'd spent most of the day getting Jules' opinion on the ones he'd thought up.

"Predictable," Jules sighed, disinterested. She was starting to feel a little better now that she was out of the mansion but her body still ached terribly. And she still couldn't get Simon out of her mind, the guilt, the worry, the shame. It was like a constant drilling right at the base of her skull and it never gave her even a moment's rest... not that she thought she deserved a moment's rest...

Frowning, Billy went back to his list. With a smirk, he struck an obscenely ridiculous hero pose and joked, "What about _The Conductor_?"

Jules suppressed a loud laugh into a derisive snort; Billy was happy that he was making some progress in his repeated attempts to get his friend to smile.

"Name yourself dat and I'll disown ya," Jules almost-laughed as she walked down the empty sidewalk, thankful that the town was literally almost deserted that afternoon.

"Well, what do you suggest?" Billy joked back, slinging his arm around the raven-haired girl's slim shoulders.

She didn't even push him off, staring out at a world dimmed by thick sunglasses for a long while before offering quite seriously, "Sparky."

Billy pouted, "Not funny."

Jules actually smirked, quite obviously fighting a full on smile. "Fine," She stated, "How 'bout Galvan? Like Galvanization?"

The boy blinked in confusion, gaping, "Uh... I don't know what that means."

Jules rolled her eyes. "So I guess Ampère is out of de question..." The young thief mused, pausing before listing off, "Circuit would be a good one, or Battery, or Volt, or Rod, like lightning rod... I'd suggest Redox, but I don't feel like explaining it... and Billy Watt is cute."

"Those are really good," Billy stated, pulling away from Juliette to eagerly add her suggestions to his list, making a small note to look up "redox," "Ampère," and "Galvanization" for himself later so he could impress Jules with his knowledge of the terms. When he was through with his additions, he turned back to his friend. "What about you?" He asked brightly, throwing his arm around her and fitting her snugly into his side once again, "Are you gonna pick a codename?"

Jules shrugged, watching some cars pass in the street as she answered, "I guess. Haven't really thought about it."

"Let's think of it now," Billy proclaimed, turning over his rumpled list and awkwardly heading the back of it _Jules' Names_. "Come on," He goaded, "What's the first one that comes to mind?"

She didn't tell him Princess of Thieves. No. No one outside the Guild knew about that name and she hadn't told Billy about the Guild. So she said the second name that came to mind. "Hellion," Jules announced, watching a mother pull her children to the other side of the street as the pair of mutants passed, feeling unusually hurt by the action she really should've been used to by then, "Cousin Lapin calls me dat all de time."

Scratching his head, Billy said, "Nope. Sorry. There's already a guy with that name. Julian... something."

Again, Jules just shrugged. The two teens walked a ways in silence before she finally made another try. "Bad Girl," She mused quietly.

Billy snorted. "Cute," He said, rolling his eyes but putting it on the list, "What else?"

"Diabolique," Jules offered, zoning out as she let the names pour from her lips, "Gehenna, Ker, Scratch, Iblis, Lilith, Lilin, Loki-"

"Hey, slow down!" Billy demanded, "I can only write so fast!"

With yet another shrug, the girl beneath his arm flatly stated, "It doesn't really matter... I don't think I want a codename anymore." The pair fell into an uncomfortable silence.

xxXxx

"Throw me higher, Daddy!" Zahra Howlett squealed, laughing at the top of her little lungs as her father tossed her up into the air. A rare smile graced Logan's rugged features as he watched his daughter's beautiful face light up. He had never figured himself for a family man, but Ruby, Zahra, and James came along and he could no longer imagine his life without them.

Panting and giggling as Logan caught her, little six-year-old Zahra slung her arms around his thick neck and snuggled her head of tousled dark hair beneath his stubbled chin. She gave a yawn and Logan realized that it was getting close to her bedtime.

"Come on, darlin," He stated softly, brushing a kiss on her flushed forehead, "Let's get you and your sister inside and into some pj's."

"Nooo!" Zahra whined tiredly, her protest punctuated by yet another yawn as her dark eyes began to droop, "I'm not sleepy!"

"Sure you're not," Logan argued with a gruff laugh, scanning the crowded lawn for signs of his eldest daughter. He found her easily, her head of white hair easy to pick out from the gaggle of young mutants engaged in the playful soccer game she'd joined. "Ruby," The man called, getting her attention, "Time to be headin' in, darlin."

"Aw," The girl pouted, giving him that look that could melt glaciers, "Five more minutes, Daddy! My team needs me!" Her kind face looked too much like Ororo's and Logan cracked in an instant. "Alright," He grudgingly agreed, "Five minutes. I'm timin' it." The girl beamed before running back to her game. Logan sat down in the grass, looking absolutely content to merely cuddle with the half-asleep Zahra.

Until Scott Summers showed up. Wolverine could smell his cheap ass cologne from a good twenty yards away, cutting off his approach with a gruff grunt of, "Whadaya want, one-eye?"

"Billy and Jules still haven't come back," The man stated, brown hair neat and red shades immaculate as he stiffly lowered himself into the grass beside Logan, "Professor wants you to go track them down."

"Lucky me," The Wolverine responded, carefully handing Zahra to Scott, "'Ro's busy so you just volunteered yourself for rugrat duty." The brunette opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Logan's strict instructions of, "Pajamas are in the pink dresser and they get a story if they're good. I told Ruby she had to come in in five, but, since I won't be here, you can let her have ten."

Scott was muttering under his breath but did not argue.

Logan got to his feet and stalked towards the garage, already onto the scent.

xxXxx

"You want some dinner?" Jules asked, proudly displaying a worn black canvas wallet as she and Billy walked down the nearly deserted city streets in the dwindling twilight, "De Sno-Cone's buying."

Billy smirked. "You have _got_ to teach me how to do that!" He declared, laughing before adding, "But we should probably get back. It's getting late and someone's gonna notice we're gone."

Frowning, definitely not looking forward to returning to the mansion, Jules nodded at the cinema they were passing, "Or we could catch a movie. De show should be letting out soon so we're just in time to catch de next one."

In the next second, the girl felt something inside her head suddenly splinter and shatter into a million pieces. It sounded like... a concrete pillar being struck with a wrecking ball. It felt like it, too.

And she was overcome by a horrible pain in her head. It was immense, intense, and immediately brought her to her knees. She had no idea what was going on but she felt like her skull was being squeezed, constricted from every angle and on the verge of a complete collapse, shards bowing inwards and shredding her brain. She barely kept herself from screaming out loud.

"Hey!" Billy cried, kneeling beside his friend and laying a comforting hand on her back, "What's the matter? Are you ok?"

Unable to even breathe through the pain, Jules could barely keep herself from collapsing entirely. When she tried to speak, nothing but sobs would leave her throat.

The doors of the movie theater opened and a large crowd came pouring out. Juliette could suddenly feel them all inside her head, flashes of terror leftover from the horror movie they had just seen, twinges of concern from some as they passed her, wave after crippling wave of hatred when they saw she was a mutant. The few minutes it took for the crowd to thin out and disperse were agony for Jules and she couldn't stop the tears from coming as she prayed for it to stop.

Slowly, she faded back into awareness, dizzily looking up into Billy's completely freaked out face as he asked, "What happened?"

"I-I don't know," Jules answered, still finding her voice, limply allowing Billy to help her back onto her feet. Her whole world felt so... different... so much more... intrusive and harsh. She was disturbed to find herself not only aware of Billy's deep concern, his worry and fear, but actually feeling it like it was her own... it was not a pleasant sensation.

"I gotta get outta here," Jules declared, unsteady as she shoved Billy away and took off down the street.

"Wait!" He called, chasing the girl until she ducked into a dark alley and seemed to disappear into the shadows. He stood still, fearful and uneasy as he cried out, "Jules! Come on! Please, come back!"

xxXxx

It was horrible.

Passing a person meant instantly having all their emotions forced like a flood inside of her head.

Groups were worse, so many feelings at once, overwhelming and disorienting, confusing and painful as they blended into a solid wave of... a barrage of... a scream. A shrill scream from _inside_ her head and she couldn't quiet it no matter how hard she tried, no matter how tightly she pressed her hands over her ears or how loud she screamed back in an attempt to drown it out.

Simon took Jules to a rock concert once; afterwards, she thought the ringing in her ears would drive her crazy. As the girl ran through the small town in search of haven from the deafening screech of foreign emotions, she wished for the ringing. The ringing would have been a substantial improvement to her current condition.

When her lungs and muscles and mind could no longer take the strain being put on them, Jules found herself collapsing into a boneless heap in the middle of the back alley of a supermarket. Her whole body throbbed and her brain felt like a soupy mush that would surely leak out of her ears and onto the cold, filthy asphalt beneath her cheek.

But it was relatively quiet back there. She found a few moments to relax and make an attempt at rational thought.

Before that could happen though, the painful grip of whatever the hell was wrong with her came back. The sensations were a little softer this time, tentative and lurking at the base of her skull like they were trying to go unnoticed, insistent whispers instead of screams. They were almost soothing, but still... unnatural... unwelcome... frightening...

"Who's dere?" Jules called, her voice shaking as she slowly got her vision to come into focus. She saw well in the dark, always had, but the alley was still empty to her eyes. But she _knew_ someone was there... "I know you're dere!" She shrieked, already defensive as she pushed herself up to her knees, "Come on out right now or else-" Against her own better judgment, the girl conjured herself a small handful of crackling crimson and black flames, "-I'll _flambé_ ya when I find ya!"

After a brief moment of silence, the whisper sensations became a little louder and were followed by the muffled sounds of a pair of graceful bodies jumping to the ground. "I'm impressed, _petite_," A deep male voice claimed, tinged with a hint of disbelief, "How de hell did you know we were dere?"

"M-Marquis?" Jules asked, concentrating hard to separate the handful of flames from her body and throwing them away to explode with a small and harmless _pop_. The girl was proud of her newfound control, but it wasn't anywhere near enough. Anything bigger than a small handful quickly overwhelmed her and that was not acceptable. She refused to go home, to return to her family until she could control it completely.

The girl was slightly surprised to look up and find her suspicion had been confirmed, to see the muscular twenty-three-year-old thief walking towards her out of the dark. At his side, a slim young woman of twenty-two was also approaching, wearing an expression of annoyance that Jules could feel as if someone was taking a morning star to the inside of her head...

_"Morning Star..."_ The girl echoed, latching onto the phrase even as she tried not to.

"Jacinthe?" She questioned, still dizzy and confused, "What you doin' here?" You two are supposed to be... not here..."

"I know," The woman grumbled, pushing long dyed-black hair off her graceful shoulders, "We got called to keep an eye on you, _your highness_."

"You didn't really thing your _père_ was gonna leave you here all alone, did ya?" Marquis Marseilles joked, trying hard not to be disturbed as he knelt down at the girl's side and she cringed visibly.

"No," She answered weakly, fighting hard against the flood of concerned emotions she had now pinpointed as coming from Marquis, "But I didn't expect spies. Two, even. And all for lil' ole me."

"Your family's worried," Marquis claimed, just sitting back and watching as Juliette forced herself up from her hands and knees to shakily stand on her feet, "And apparently with good reason. What's goin on?"

Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Juliette swayed precariously and whimpered, "I dunno... my head hurts..."

She could feel a stinging slap inside her mind when Jacinthe Didier rolled her eyes behind the girl's back. "SHUT UP, JACINTHE!!" Jules ordered, nearly collapsing again when she felt the woman's surprise and anger.

Marquis caught the mutant before she could fall, severely disturbed when he felt her sob against him. Something definitely wasn't right. "Let's get you back to dat school 'a yours," He stated, instructing his reluctant partner, "You get de boy home. We don't need trouble over him."

"I ain't no babysitter!" Jacinthe cried indignantly, making Jules shudder violently in Marquis' arms, her knees giving out completely from the strength of the resentment and jealousy she could feel pouring off of the woman.

Scowling, making things worse for the girl he held, Marquis growled, "Just do it... she's in bad shape."

xxXxx

Jules had broken out into another fever by the time Logan found her.

Some sandy-haired punk was carrying the teen like she was a helpless baby as she whimpered and struggled to stay conscious.

Instantly incensed and defensive, Wolverine brought his jeep to an abrupt stop and leapt out of it with his claws already unsheathed. He approached from behind, silent and deadly.

Before he was even within fifty yards, Juliette turned her face against the young man's strong chest to muffle her scream of agony.

Before the brunette could even inquire what was wrong, he had a trio of sharp Adamantium blades against his throat.

"Drop her," Logan demanded gruffly, leaving very little room for argument.

Flinching in pain, the kid stated, "Can't, _mon ami_. De Princess's got her fingernails sunk in my shoulder." Indeed, the girl's sharp red talons had punched bloody little holes right through his thick black shirt... and she wasn't letting go despite looking like she'd been overwhelmed into unconsciousness.

Since Jules didn't seem to mistrust or fear the guy, and since he had a thick French accent much like her own, Logan relaxed his grip on the brunette's throat as he asked, "Who are you and what're you doing here?"

"Name's Marquis," He answered, clearly unhappy, "Remy LeBeau sent me to keep an eye on his daughter."

Wolverine released the young man, allowing him to step away and turn around. The kid was pretty clean-cut, tall and lean and muscular, but had sort of a cocky air about him that Logan instantly disliked. Scowling, Marquis gestured to the passed out girl as he claimed, "Monsieur LeBeau ain't gonna be happy when I tell him about dis. What de hell did you people do to her?"

"No idea," Logan responded, "Put her in my jeep and we'll get her back to school... where's Billy?"

"My partner went after him," Marquis reported flatly, "She'll take care of it."

Nodding, Logan turned and led the boy to his vehicle, very mindful of Juliette's whimpers of anguish.

xxXxx

The ride back passed mostly without conversation, only fretful sobs from Jules in the backseat to punctuate the tense silence.

She began to stir when they entered the school grounds, began to wake when they drove into the underground garage, and began to scream when Marquis tried to carry her inside.

"Shhh, _petite_," He soothed, nearly getting his eyes scratched out as she fought him blindly, "It's alright. We gonna help you."

"NO!" The girl shrieked, crying too hard to breathe properly, "NO! IT'S TOO LOUD! DERE'S TOO MANY OF DEM! MAKE IT STOP!"

"Huh?" Marquis grunted, mentally enraged by what the X-Men had done to the sweet, smart-mouthed little girl he had really grown to love competing with, even if she did kick his butt quite a lot. He was so mad that, after only a month, they'd managed to turn her into an incoherent wreck. They were going to pay.

The teen was just thinking up some suitable tortures when Jules suddenly gave a particularly loud scream and thrashed so hard that he nearly had to drop her. And then he did have to drop her because she'd gotten too hot to touch. Her skin felt like fire through the worn t-shirt on her thin, sweat-soaked body.

Marquis was bent over Jules to try to pick her up again, but she started in with this terrified, pained, utterly mindless whimpering, crawling away, sobbing desperately as she dragged herself into a corner and curled up into a tight little ball on the floor. The girl drew her knees up to her horned forehead, clamped her hands tight over her ears, and rocked and cried and gasped for air.

The garage was silent for a few moments while Jules tried to get a hold of herself. She failed and just started shrieking again, as loud as her already raw throat would allow, desperate to drown out the deafening rush of voices and emotions that _should not be in her head_.

It was _too much_.

_too many_.

_too loud_.

_too hot_.

Her hands were hot against her ears, buzzing and crackling and hurting but grounding her in reality with the pain and meaningless static. Her hands flared into twin balls of crimson and black flames and they made the voices just a little bit quieter.

Eager to keep the voices out, Jules didn't try to fight when the fire began to consume her, began to take over as it surrounded her body with heat and her mind with comforting, blissful silence. Finally able to take a breath, finally not feeling like her head was going to explode just from all the noise being forced inside it, Juliette leaned back against the wall and trembled inside the red hot cocoon of fire.

Drawn by the screaming, Jean arrived on the scene to find Logan and a strange young man worriedly standing a few yards back from a large crimson and black fireball that was surrounding Juliette's quivering, only half conscious body. "Oh my god," The redheaded telepath gasped, immediately throwing up a psychic shield around the girl in order to contain her inevitable explosion. "What happened?" She asked, worried over how the young teen was whimpering but otherwise uncharacteristically still against the floor, her smoldering eyes wide open pinpricks of shock.

"Dunno," Logan grunted, nodding his head at the strange young man, "Found her with him. She was out of it and screaming her head off... Chuck on his way?"

"Yes," Jean replied, checking on the Professor's progress towards the garage as she continued to hold the shield, "He says not to try to move or approach her until he arrives."

The strange young man let out a bitter chuckle, commenting, "Like I need to be told _dat_."

Nothing about the situation had really changed by the time Xavier showed, cautiously rolling up with a harried Ororo at his side. He already had a very strong suspicion as to what was wrong with the girl. Billy had run into his office only about twenty minutes before he began to sense the disaster in the mansion's garage. The boy let Xavier look at the events of that evening, Jules' sudden breakdown outside the theater. Seeing how quickly she had deteriorated seemed to give support to his theory despite the fact that he had been hoping to be wrong.

He tried to get into her head to take control of her powers and calm her down. It was impossible though. Her shields had completely collapsed but the inferno she'd wrapped herself in was giving off too much static from the kinetic energy contained in it. "Her shields collapsed," The Professor stated bluntly, "And... I believe she is an empath. I couldn't see it before. I don't think she even knew, but now the power is loose and she can't control or handle it..."

Turning to the sandy-haired young man standing beside Logan, Xavier said, "I cannot help her until the fire is out and I need to help her as soon as possible. Since you know her better than the rest of us, could you try to talk to her?"

"Uh..." Marquis responded, glancing over at the fireball with a slightly fearful edge, " I guess..." He approached warily, the heat coming off the crackling flames making him sweat as he got closer. Soon, he was kneeling down just a few feet away, calling out, "Jules? Princess? Can you hear me? It's Marquis."

"M-Marquis?" The girl responded, her voice dazed and alien as she trembled on the cold concrete floor, "Marquis, what you doin' here?"

"I'm here for you, Princess," He answered lightly, trying not to be disturbed by the fact that she didn't remember the conversation they had earlier, "I'm here to help... you doin alright?"

"No," The raven-haired teen sobbed, curling helplessly in on herself and sounding painfully childlike, "It's too loud. It hurts. Make it stop."

His heart was breaking as he quietly soothed, "I'm tryin, _petite_, but you gotta come outta dere first."

"Can't," Jules whimpered deliriously, "Too loud... Papa..."

Sighing, Marquis turned around and walked back to the group of mutants. "You heard de Princess," He stated coldly, whipping out his cellphone and hitting Remy's number on the speed dial, "She wants her papa."

xxXxx

Remy got the call at seven. He was in the hospital, sitting with Henri while his pale, exhausted older brother choked down some cafeteria food under Tante's orders. None of them were feeling too good.

Simon's vitals had been dropping steadily all day.

He picked up his cell after just one ring, eager for Marquis' report, slightly unnerved that the young thief was calling to give it ahead of schedule.

"_Jules needs you_," He heard immediately from the other end.

On his feet in an instant, Gambit demanded, "What happened?"

He was running out of the hospital only minutes later, rushing back to his father's mansion to meet Kurt, who was coming to take him to New York and his Juliette. Remy's mind was a mess; he could barely think straight and must have committed at least a dozen traffic violations as he drove. Three separate red light cameras flashed in his face but the thief truly did not care.

Kurt was waiting for him when he arrived, the fuzzy blue elf chatting quietly with Anatole in the doorway.

"Let's go!" Remy shouted, anxious to be with his baby girl because she needed him to be with her.

"_Ja_," Kurt replied, nodding goodbye to Ani as he grabbed Gambit's arm, "_Wir gehen_." (Yes. We go.)

A dizzying flurry of sulfurous _bamf_s later, Remy found himself in the Xavier garage; his daughter was curled up in the corner, trembling and immersed in a neat little bubble of fire.

"Juliette," Remy breathed out, utterly terrified as he rushed forward to get as close to her as he could manage with all the heat and flames. "Jules!" He called out, near panic over the way her eyes were wide open and staring right at him but not seeming to see, "Princess, it's Papa. Can you hear me?"

"P-Papa?" She whimpered, her voice so small it was painful to everyone in the garage, "Dere's so-something wrong with me. It hurts."

"I know, _petite_," Remy soothed, "Dat's why I'm here. I'm gonna make it all better but I need you to put out de fire first."

"No," The girl answered, curling tighter in on herself as the tears began, manifesting as hissing trails of steam coming from the corners of her eyes. "NO!!" She shrieked, even as everyone could tell the pulsing fire was in fact about to detonate.

Only seconds later, it did.

Jean's powers contained the blast, prevented much damage, though its sheer force still managed to shake the mansion. Before the smoke had cleared, an absolutely blood-curdling scream erupted from its source, from the small teen suddenly having to deal with the thoughts and feelings of an entire school being forced inside her head. She convulsed on the floor, clutching at her own skull, sinking her razor sharp fingernails into her own scalp just to try to make the foreign sensations _stop coming_. It was blinding, excruciating, probably would have killed her if the Professor hadn't immediately thrown up shields to protect her mind from shattering into a million tiny pieces.

As it was, the pain only lasted a split second. It seemed like far long to both the LeBeau's.

Jules passed out moments later, slightly scorched but eerily peaceful floating amidst the inner silence that had been restored to her, the black nothingness behind her closed eyes. A pool of blood settled beneath her head, crimson against the burnt concrete and fan of wild raven hair.

Used to the drill by that time, Remy didn't try to touch his daughter right away. He was beside her slight form when the smoky haze in the garage cleared up enough for the others to see, but he knew she'd still be too hot to lay hands on. His hands were shaking though, shaking at his sides as he had to continually remind himself off that fact. He was willing back tears and praying to God his baby would get through this.

xxXxx

"What did you do to her?" Remy's voice wavered menacingly as he pounded his fists down onto the top of Xavier's desk. He was absolutely incensed and no one could blame him. His daughter was unconscious in the medlab; she had thirty stitches in her scalp--three for each of the small gashes along the sides of her head where her fingernails pierced; two perfect half-moon rows of perfect half-moon punctures--and none of the X-Men were being very forthcoming about what had gone wrong. If he didn't get some answers soon, he was going to lose it.

The Professor sighed heavily, tenting his fingers against his thin lips as he thought about how best to break the news to Gambit. "Juliette is an empath," He finally stated quietly, "Like you, only, due to the mental shields you seem to have passed on to her when you resurrected her as an infant, she has never before had to deal with the power. Suddenly being confronted with an ability of this magnitude... it could easily kill her. Empaths already generally have a diffcult time living past their teen years. What they deal with can be overwhelming even in small doses, even after having more of their lives to gradually get used to feeling the emotions of others and learning how to filter them out. Juliette... due to a combination of things, one of which I'm ashamed to report was my own efforts to get past her shields, her shields have collapsed completely and she has no other way of protecting herself from what she feels."

Remy's hands were shaking again, his eyes looking more demonic than ever as he glared across the desk, as he tried to contain his overwhelming anger and terror. "How can I help her?" He asked, dangerously low.

"I'm not sure," Xavier answered plainly, "For the moment, I'm using my powers to shield her, but that is not a permanent solution. I can already feel her mind working against the intrusion of mine. It is not dissimilar to the way the body of a transplant patient might reject a donor organ. She just... doesn't trust me. Even on a subconscious level. I'll keep her protected as long as I can but she will eventually be left open again. She has maybe two days, at most, and... it would be best if she is in a more isolated area when my shields fail her."

Face hardening impossibly further, Remy hissed, "So dat's it den? You lure my daughter here with false hope, make her worse off, and den kick her to de curb without so much as a 'sorry for damaging your brain'?"

"You know that is not the situation at all," Xavier insisted, "The worst thing for her right now are the several hundred hormonal teenage minds waiting to invade hers... and I am sorry but there was no way we could have known and I was only trying to help-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR EXCUSES!!" The Cajun shouted, kicking a chair across the room, "DE ONLY DAMN THING DAT MATTERS IS MY DAUGHTER IS IN PAIN!!! NO MATTER WHAT YOU WERE _TRYING_ TO DO, DAT'S DE BOTTOM LINE!! I AM SO SICK OF YOU PEOPLE!! YOU THINK YOU CAN DO WHATEVER DE HELL YOU WANT AS LONG AS YOU CLAIM _GOOD INTENTIONS_!! MEANWHILE, YOU'VE ENDANGERED JULES' SANITY AND HER LIFE!!! DAT'S WHAT YOU AND YOUR GOOD INTENTIONS DO!! YOU _DESTROY LIVES_!!!"

The silence that came next was tense but neither man squirmed.

"I am sorry," The Professor finally muttered, "But none of that changes the fact that you _must_ take Jules away from here."

"Oh, don't you worry," Remy spat venomously, "Soon as she's stable enough, I'm taking her home. And, so help me God, if you or any of your people come anywhere near her ever again-" He leaned across the desk, face only inches from Xavier's "-I'll kill ya." He leaned away, face stony, "It's dat simple."

xxXxx

Rogue felt the explosion and knew she had another chance. She wasn't too hopeful; Jules' stays in the medlab were usually quite closely watched but, still, the others had been getting less and less vigilant as the young girl ended up in there more and more. She knew it would only be a matter of time before she'd be able to slip in unnoticed.

She waited hours, waited for Hank to stitch the rows of small gashes beneath Jules' wild raven hair, for Remy to finally stomp off in an absolute rage, for Billy to be sent to bed, for Ororo to return to her family, for Marquis to step out to use the bathroom, for Jules to be alone. The untouchable walked cautiously into the room and stood directly beside the girl's bed.

Juliette LeBeau was very pretty, she had to admit, the girl's pale face peaceful in sleep. It made Rogue hate her even more.

She knew it was very petty to hate the girl; nothing was really her fault, after all. Still, Jules got Remy while all Rogue got was heartache and loneliness. It just didn't seem fair. Rogue absorbed Remy's own guilt along with his memories. She couldn't have... it wasn't her _fault_!!

But Remy still hated her. And why shouldn't he? She'd betrayed him. And it's not like he'd spent the last thirteen years missing her every second of every day. He had _Juliette_ to fill that void and Rogue knew... Rogue knew there was no longer room for her in his life.

She just wanted a peek, that was all. Just a quick look at what Remy had done without her, to make sure Remy really was happy without her, to check if there might still be a chance...

No one told her about Jules' new power. Rogue wasn't expecting to absorb anything more than some memories when she lightly brushed her bare fingertips against the girl's pale face.

At first, she didn't absorb anything more than some memories. Rogue saw Jules wrestling with Remy on the beach, saw him tucking the girl into bed with a tender kiss on the forehead and a truly devoted smile he used to only... she saw Jules coming home from kindergarten and finding Remy collapsed on the floor gasping for air. She saw Jules running for an inhaler, her tiny body flashing through an eerie slideshow of growth that suggested it happened over and over and over throughout the years. She saw Remy coming back from business trips with presents, priceless little trinkets swiped right out of museums and palaces all across the world. She listened to Remy tell Jules again and again that he loved her, that she was his princess and the most beautiful girl that ever was or ever would be. Rogue remembered how Remy used to say those kinds of things to only her...

She gasped and took a step back, unaware of anything aside from the throbbing, nauseating pain radiating throughout her skull. It quickly turned from an ache to a searing, _shrieking_ migraine, leaving the Southern Belle with little recourse but to stumble blindly out of the room before she got caught.

The pain worsened as she fought her way to her own room, until she collapsed onto her bed. Rogue spent the next twenty-four hours straight face-down in her pillow, screaming her throat raw.

xxXxx

At a little past midnight, Ororo gave up on getting to sleep. She wandered silently down to the medlab, hoping to check up on both Juliette and Remy.

She came across Remy just inside the medlab door. He was sitting on the ground, head in his hands and shoulders heaving as he fought for every next ragged breath.

"Are you alright?" She asked quietly, sinking down at his side.

The thief didn't even look up, but shook his head, pointing across the room to his old duster. It was draped over a chair near the end of his daughter's bed.

Quickly, Storm retrieved it for him, watching with tears in her eyes as his shaking hands tore through the pockets and eventually clutched around an inhaler. After a few puffs from it, Remy was breathing almost normally again but still wouldn't pick his head up. His silver-threaded auburn hair fell to veil his handsome face.

"Do you need me to call Hank?" Ororo questioned kindly, drawing a comforting hand down his trembling back.

Again, he shook his head, grounding out, "I'll be ok. Gimme a minute." After the promised minute, he let out a bitter little chuckle. "Jules'd usually be yelling at me right now," He reported sadly, "Telling me to calm down 'fore I hurt myself... she takes better care of me than I do of her."

"Do not be so hard on yourself," Storm admonished, "You love your daughter and she loves you. It is obvious to anyone with eyes to see."

"Loving her don't protect her," Remy answered, the harshness in his voice directed more at himself than the weather witch at his side, "I should have... I should have been here. I should have fought harder when she wanted me to leave. I should have kept dis from happening to her. What de hell good am I if I can't protect her?"

Putting an arm around his shoulders, Storm quietly comforted, "You do your best, Remy, but you cannot protect her from everything. The world will happen to your baby no matter how much you try to shield her from it. At this point, you can no longer be her shield, but rather her anchor. She will need your love and support. She will need you standing behind her rather than in front of her as she learns to survive in a world that has been fundamentally and irreversibly changed."

Sighing heavily, hating that the woman was right, Remy leaned his head down on Storm's shoulder and grumbled, "You're pro'ly right, Stormy, but... it's hard. I can barely stand it when she skins her knees and then I can at least kiss her and make her feel better. I... I can't stand not being able to do a thing to help her."

"But you do," Storm answered quietly, "You help her just by being there. You make her feel safe, even subconsciously. It was only your presence that finally made her feel secure enough to let go of her powers this afternoon. Even though she fought against doing so, some part of her just _knew_ you would take care of her. She loves and trusts _you_ above anyone else."

For a long few moments, the pair sat in silence. Eventually, Remy stated, "Thanks."

"For what, my brother?" Storm inquired, tenderly stroking his hair as if he was a small boy rather than a grown man of nearly forty.

"For telling me what I needed to hear," Remy responded tiredly, dark eyes falling shut as his exhaustion began to claim him, "For always being dere for me, even after everything."

The Cajun fell asleep then, never noticing the guilty, far-off expression in Storm's eyes.

xxXxx

Nearly two days later, Juliette woke slowly as the buzzing in her ears got louder and louder, like someone had tuned a radio to static and was gradually turning up the volume. She groaned, curling onto her side and pressing her hands tightly over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. It took only seconds to realize that the effort was futile.

"_Petite_?" She heard her papa's voice ask softly, sounding like it was coming from far away even as his calloused hands brushed hair back from her horned forehead, "You awake, _ma belle fille_?" (my beautiful girl)

"Head hurts," She whimpered, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly shut because she just couldn't handle any more sensation.

"I know, Princess," Remy sighed regretfully, laying down beside her in the small, unfamiliar bed and cradling her against his broad chest. "I'm sorry," He said, using one thumb to rub gentle, soothing circles against the whimpering girl's pale temple, "Xavier can't keep you protected much longer but we're moving you today so you should feel better soon. Remember de old house your _grand-père_ owns in de middle of de swamp? De one dat used to run a leg of de Underground Railroad?"

"Ya," Jules sobbed weakly, throat tightening as she fought back tears of pain and frustration, "Why are we going dere? What's wrong with me, Papa? What's going on?"

"We talked about dis," The auburn-haired man soothed, voice a strained rumble against his daughter's cheek, "You got an empathy power, _miel_, and we need to get you away from people while you learn to control it." (honey)

"But..." The teen gaped, confused and close to frantic as the buzzing began to get louder, as her whole body began to prickle with waves of foreign emotions, "But I don't... how come..." The whole situation was too confusing, and it was getting harder and harder to sort her own thoughts out of her overstuffed, throbbing mind. Discouraged and frightened, Jules broke down into incoherent gasps for breath.

"Slow it down, _mon amour_," Remy instructed, trying like hell to keep himself calm, "Just concentrate on me. Block out de rest of it and concentrate on me." His own experience in dealing with an empathic power told him that any positive, calming emotions he could feed to his daughter would help her keep grounded. He tightened his arms around her thin, shaking body, placing a kiss on her cheek as he began to hum an old lullaby he'd always sang to her as a baby.

Slowly, very slowly, she began to relax, tense muscles going limp as her hysterical tears tapered to confused, disoriented hiccups. She still had no idea what was happening to her, couldn't hold onto the explanation amidst the rest of the chaos in her mind no matter how many times it was told to her.

But her papa was there.

She didn't have to be scared because her papa was there.

xxXxx

At that same moment, on the third floor of Charity Hospital in New Orleans, Louisiana, next to the third bed in the intensive care unit, the machine monitoring the heartbeat of LeBeau, Simon R., abandoned its slow, rhythmic beeping in favor of one long, flat whine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ah. Dramatic, no? As always, reviews are encouraged and rewarded with happy thoughts directed in the reviewer's direction. Extra points to those who know the meanings behind all of Jules' and Billy's proposed codenames. :)


	11. Part 11: The World Is Not Thy Friend

Part 11 - The World is Not Thy Friend

The house was old, not necessarily run-down just... antiquated. It had been around since before the Civil War, used by members of the LeBeau family to man a stop on the Underground Railroad and after as an occasional hideout when they found themselves hounded by the law for one reason or another.

But the sweeping plantation house hadn't been regularly inhabited in close to twenty years. The drafty rooms and finicky power supply and low-pressured running water left a lot to be desired and, much to the horror of all, there was no cable for the TV.

But it was very quiet. The closest neighbor was a ninety-year-old widower who lived ten miles away and, even though Juliette could sometimes feel him if he cried for his wife, there was no one else to bother her.

It was just her and her papa, all alone together, fighting to preserve the girl's fragile sanity.

"Jules," Remy called sternly, knocking on her bedroom door to announce his presence even though they both knew she'd felt her father coming, "Unlock dis thing right now, _petite_."

"No!" Juliette shouted in return, voice muffled by the pillow she was crushing down over her face as she tried to force the tears out of her eyes, "Go away!"

"When has dat ever worked?" He questioned, just a hint of humor in his hard voice. Jules could feel him leaning on the outside of the door, the concern he was trying to keep under control compressing around her mind like a vise. "Dis door ain't gonna stop me," He warned, "You forgotten who I am? De Prince of Thieves ain't never met a lock he couldn't pick, and certainly not one dat would keep him from his Princess."

Sobbing in earnest now, trembling and miserable as her whole head throbbed, the teen shrieked, "Just leave me alone! I don't want dem to come! How could you say dey could?" She hated herself for how weak she'd become and just... didn't want her papa to see her like that. Didn't want_ anyone_ to see her like that.

The lock clicked just seconds later and the hinges on the door whined shrilly as a set of light footsteps tracked into the room. Jules felt the bed sag as Gambit laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms. She felt better in an instant, safe and secure and loved, and she absolutely _hated_ it. It wasn't fair her papa could make her feel that way just because he wanted her to. The love was better than her own panic but was still... a violation, one that she couldn't bring herself to tell him about. It would only sadden him, maybe even make him afraid to be around her. She didn't want that.

Kissing the girl's forehead, Remy remarked, "Didn't mean to upset you, _mon amour_. I just thought... you're doing so good and your cousins are always asking about you. I thought you might be ready to see dem but if you're not, den dat's alright. I won't push you yet."

Jules sniffled, grasping handfuls of her papa's shirt and burying her face against his broad chest. She took a deep breath, letting his familiar scent of spice and sweat engulf her, giving her just one sense to focus on.

It was so hard to deal with her mind now, so hard that sometimes--often--she found herself thinking it just wasn't worth the effort.

Little things set her off and her reactions were... extreme. She couldn't seem to control them, like the part of her brain in charge of telling her not to cry just because she couldn't get the pickle jar open had been washed away by the floods of foreign emotions she was constantly vulnerable to.

Being isolated, limiting the other minds infringing upon her own, helped keep the teen from being completely overwhelmed but... it wasn't a solution. Papa was right: she couldn't hide forever. Her family wanted to see her and she _was_ going to have to learn to deal with her empathic powers if she wanted them to ever be able to again. The several weeks she had been in the house with only her father were enough to help her heal from the initial trauma, help her get used to the idea of being so... changed. Now it was time to start working toward... building the new version of herself that the changed world required.

"Princess?" Remy questioned softly, tenderly petting his daughter's hair as she cuddled against him with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, "You listening? I said I'd tell dem not to come today, alright? Dey'll be disappointed, but I'll explain you ain't feeling up to it yet and dey'll understand. Maybe we can try in a few days."

"_Non_," She murmured, resolved and unusually coherent now that she had Remy so close, "Dey can come. I... I'm just so scared, Papa."

Feeling his daughter's tears wet the front of his t-shirt had become a daily occurrence over the past weeks but that still didn't mean Remy would ever get used to it. "I know, _mon ange_," He soothed, forcing more feelings of love and reassurance to the forefront of his thinking, hiding the fear and anger, "I'm scared, too. But you'll be ok. It's just gonna take some time."

xxXxx

Simon let Ani drive. The fifteen, almost-sixteen-year-old was halfway back to the hospital before Simon realized it and called him a stupid prick, reassuring his brother that he was still his old self. The detour made them late and Simon's constant, anxious bitching made the other inhabitants of the red pickup all wish he hadn't been _entirely_ his old self.

His recovery was just about the strangest thing any of the doctors had ever witnessed. After nearly a full month in a coma due to injuries he suffered trying to stop his baby cousin's rampage, the seventeen-year-old's heart stopped. He was clinically dead for fifteen minutes while assorted medical personnel shocked and doped him.

Thirty seconds after being declared dead--the young man hadn't told a soul that he distinctly remembered hearing "time of death, 20:13" from one of the doctors and a broken wail of anguish from his _maman_--Simon's brown eyes flew open and he began choking around the tube that had been shoved down his throat.

The Lazarus Phenomenon, he heard one of the doctors tell his parents, a person spontaneously and inexplicably returning to life after resuscitation has been abandoned. He was one lucky bastard and, after the breathing tube, I.V., and catheter were finally removed under his cross insistence, he felt almost as good as new... rested even, if a little bit stiff.

But the next few hours passed with every member of his family coming by to tearfully welcome him back into the world of the living... every member except for Jules and Uncle Remy. It didn't take long at all for him to begin demanding to see his baby cousin, asking if she was alright and what happened to her after he passed out.

His family made excuses, lame, transparent ones he didn't buy for a second. Frustrated, he lifted Nico's cell just before everyone was swept from the room at the end of visiting hours. As soon as the obnoxious nurses and hovering doctors finally left him alone, Simon dialed his Uncle Remy.

"_What you want, Nico_?" The thief's voice came from the other end, strained and hoarse and exhausted. The ambient noises in the background made it sound like he was on an airplane.

"It ain't Nico," The teen reported, "It's Simon, and I wanna know why de hell no one will tell me where you and Jules really are. Is she ok?"

Simon heard a deep sigh before his uncle stated, "_We on a plane back from New York and_..._ she's been better_..."

By the time the explanation was over, Simon was shouting into the phone. All that kindly assorted medical staff came rushing back into his room and promptly sedated him. He would've been outraged if he hadn't been... well, unconscious.

The extent of his physical injuries was a row of staples holding together the rapidly healing gash on the back of his head. The lack of brain damage was surprising, but nevertheless a reality; he had some abnormal brainwaves, but nothing the doctors were very concerned about. Luckily, that meant he was allowed to go home after just a few days. His parents and Tante fussed and coddled, but, as the weeks wore on, the boy's mood could only be described as _crotchety_. Uncle Remy relayed everyday, sometimes several times and with increasing frustration, that Jules didn't want to see him or any of the rest of the family, that she wouldn't even talk to them over the phone.

And then, that morning, Uncle Remy had declared that he'd had enough, that the cousins should come over and surprise her no matter what she said. Because it was about time she started trying to get used to her new power. Simon had been thrilled, as had Nico and Ani. Christien, however, was sulking in silence in the backseat.

"What de hell's wrong with you?" Simon growled, glaring at him in the rearview, "You ain't seen Jules in over two months and you're acting like we're dragging you to de dentist!"

Blue eyes flashing angrily, the thirteen-year-old redhead fired back, "She's de one dat left!! She didn't have to, but she did!! Right when we all needed her!! She didn't say goodbye, or try to explain! We just got home and found a _note_!! I thought I was her best friend but, apparently, I'm only worth a _note_!!"

Sagely, Nico slung an arm around the boy's thick shoulders and calmed, "You can't be mad at her for dat. She was scared, thinking she was gonna blow up de rest of us, and she needed to try to get some control. She didn't handle de situation de way any of us wanted her to, but dat's over. She's suffering for de choices she made and she needs us to be dere to help her."

Christien remained quiet but continued to sulk, staring out the window as the thick swampland passed by the on the sides of the bumpy dirt road.

After nearly two hours of traveling, the four boys finally pulled up on the old house. Remy was waiting at the end of the mile-long driveway, waving at them to stop. He hopped in the front seat beside Simon, shoving the teen to the middle as he turned to survey all his assorted nephews. The man looked so much older than his thirty-seven years, face tired and lined with worry.

"Past dis point," He warned gruffly, "You're all to keep de thinking to a minimum. Jules can feel everything you do and it hurts her bad if it's too loud or too negative. Don't get upset if she starts yelling or crying. She can't help it sometimes and feeling you get upset will just make it worse for her. Everybody understand?" He got some grumbles of agreement from all around and, as satisfied as he could be, nodded at Ani to continue along the road.

The house was deathly quiet when they entered and Jules wasn't in the sitting room where Remy professed he'd left her. "Stay here," He ordered without a backwards glance as he rushed to track down his daughter, "And don't think too much."

The boys milled around awkwardly.

xxXxx

Remy found his daughter in the small bedroom she'd claimed, huddled in the back corner of the closet, rocking and crying quietly as she clasped her hands down over her ears. "What is it, _petite_?" The thief asked, sinking down beside the girl and pulling her into a tight embrace.

"He-He ha-a-ates me!!" Jules wailed between hysterical pants for breath, tears streaming down her pale face as her slight body shook.

Remy frowned. "You mean Simon?" He questioned, hugging his daughter close and brushing gentle kisses against her forehead, "Oh, _bien-aimé_, Simon don't hate you. He couldn't even if he wanted to."

"Si-Simon's here?" The girl whimpered, surprised and confused, "What's he doin' here?"

Pressing down the rising concern, Remy very patiently answered, "He's here to see you, remember? We talked dis morning about him and de other cousins coming to visit today."

Jules frowned as she searched for a memory of the event and found nothing. After only a moment, though, she had to abandon her efforts. Crying out in pain, the girl clapped her hands down over her ears again and buried her face against her father's broad chest. "He's yelling at me!!" She sobbed heartbrokenly, "He's yelling at me for leaving!! I'm sorry!! I didn't mean to hurt him!! Tell him, Papa!! Tell him I'm sorry!! Make him stop yelling!!"

Again, Remy had to forced back his anger, voice shaking only slightly as he whispered, "Of course, _ma princesse_. I'll take care of it." Disturbed that she barely acknowledged him picking her up off the floor and tucking her into bed, the thief then stalked back down stairs.

"Which one of you's got de abandonment issues?" He demanded of his assembled nephews, trying to remain calm but perfectly aware that he must look pretty damn scary. This fact was confirmed when, with barely a moment of hesitation, Nico, Simon, and Ani all pointed straight to Christien.

"Get out," Remy ordered unflinchingly, making the thirteen-year-old behemoth scowl darkly but not argue as he turned on his heel and stormed away. "Wait at de end of de drive, Élan," He called after the boy's retreating back. The front door answered with a violent slam.

Turning to face the three young men who remained, Remy weakly announced, "Dere's some lunch out on de kitchen table. You can help yourselves while I try to get Jules to come down." The mutant then stalked back upstairs without another word.

xxXxx

Forty-five minutes of awkwardly picking at peanut butter sandwiches later, Simon noticed Uncle Remy standing in the doorway. It took a moment to recognize that the girl beside him was their Juliette. She looked... different. Terrified, for sure, ruby-onyx eyes wide and nervous and sunken in their sockets as she clung desperately to her father's side. She was also much thinner, paler, bordering on unhealthy, and... she'd grown _at least_ four inches in height.

"Jules," Simon breathed, immediately jumping up and running across the room to seize his little cousin into a crushing hug, "You had me worried sick, _petite_! Are you ok?" He held her out at arms length to get a better look, making a mental note to tattle on both her and Uncle Remy to Tante about the girl's weight loss, which had been grossly under-exaggerated.

For a long few moments, Jules just stared up at him, expression blank and full of wonder. "You're different," She finally accused, "What's different?"

Simon smirked, ruffling his shaggy gold-blonde curls a bit as he confessed, "Ain't had a haircut in two months, for starters. Haven't been getting my daily dose of de princess, neither."

"No," Jules argued, stoic as she stared, tilting her head to the side like a bewildered puppy still trying to decide good or bad about its brand new home, "Not dat... something else..."

For a long, uncomfortable stretch of minutes, the kitchen was silent. Simon squirmed under Juliette's cold, unwavering stare.

But then the girl winced, tired eyes snapping shut as she drew in a sharp breath and stumbled backwards for Remy to steady with an ever-ready hand. "Alright, _mon amour_?" The mutant questioned lowly.

"Uh huh," She replied noncommittally, seeming confused and disoriented as she peered around the kitchen, searching for some physical attacker to the pain she felt, like she didn't remember... the teen seemed so scared and disoriented and confused, and it was heartbreaking for her cousins to watch.

"OW!! OWOWOW!!!" Jules screamed, brutally slamming her hands down over her ears as she fell back again, as her knees gave out and her father cradled her protectively against his chest. And then she was crying like a baby, sobbing like none of the young men had seen her since she actually _was_ a baby. She was babbling and choking and Remy was squeezing her tight, glaring at them over the top of her head, accusing and threatening and reminding them all to keep their emotions in check. Their horror was hurting Jules and their guilt at hurting her was hurting her more. It was a vicious cycle.

"Either stop or go wait with Christien!" Remy shouted, starting to regret this plan, terrified by his daughter's uncontrolled trembling and obvious pain.

The LeBeau boys ran.

"How is she?" Christien Benoit questioned with feigned disinterest when he saw his cousins rushing down the road. All three were visibly disturbed, too afraid to even speak because they didn't want to hurt their baby cousin.

A little over an hour later, they were all lounging sadly by the side of the dirt road when Uncle Remy came down the drive with the red pickup. When he parked and got out, they could see that he looked more exhausted than ever. "She's sleeping," The man reported, his own voice raw and strained, "I don't think she can handle anymore for today... I... I'm sorry."

And so they piled in the truck and went home, not arriving until dinnertime and not able to talk about what they'd witnessed that afternoon to anyone, least of all each other.

Juliette LeBeau was broken and they didn't know how to fix her, if she could be fixed at all.

xxXxx

"Has either of you heard from Remy?" Xavier questioned, not doing a very good job of hiding his anxious concern.

"Ya," Logan replied gruffly, slinging a supportive arm around his wife's shoulders as he smelled her sadness, "Yesterday. He called and talked for a bit. Didn't sound too hot."

While the information did not surprise the Professor, it nonetheless depressed him. "How is Jules fairing?" He pressed, showing a surprising amount of guilt and apprehension as he fidgeted with a few random objects on his big wood desk.

"Not well," Ororo answered, voice soft and serious, "They tried bringing her cousins to visit. She barely saw them at all before becoming overwhelmed by their presences."

With a quiet sigh, Xavier tented his fingers up against his thin lips. His eyes were focused and shrewd as he stared out ahead of himself, as he answered, "I wish there was more I could do for her."

"You tried, Chuck," Logan said, "Not your fault the girl booted you out her brain and cemented the door shut."

"Has the short-term memory loss improved at all?" The Professor went on, unwilling to discuss his own short-comings.

"When not confronted by an abundance of foreign sensation, she is fine," Storm stated, "Remy said the same about the insomnia, nausea, and hysteria. I'm afraid the depression has not changed."

Xavier nodded slowly, thinking hard over the information and quickly deciding that, while it was not ideal, it was at least encouraging. It was at least a start. "Thank you," He said, offering a tight almost-smile, "Please, tell Remy I will always be willing to do anything in my power to help."

"He knows," Logan grunted as he and his wife stood, "He's pissed, sure, but he knows you'd do anything you could. Gumbo don't hate you like the rest. He don't trust you worth a damn but he don't trust most people so don't be too broke up about it. Night, Chuck." The pair left, left the man in the wheelchair to contemplate those words.

Ororo was never a chatterbox but she'd been unusually, disturbingly quiet ever since Jules left. Logan tightened the arm he had around his shoulders, worried and uncomfortable. "Ruby got a' A on her math test," He blurted out, for once unwilling to let the silence go unfilled.

He was graced with a slight, soft smile, his wife leaning against his chest and humming, "That is wonderful. I know you two have been working hard together."

"Girl's smart," Logan answered, hoping like hell that he wasn't blushing, "I didn't have too much to do with that."

He left the rest unsaid because he wasn't entirely certain what the rest was.

xxXxx

Tante wheedled the story out of the boys the next morning. Simon tattled shameless; Nico wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, seeming disappointed in himself for some deep failure.

After rewarding them with breakfast, Tante placed two phone calls. The first was to Lapin, to tell him he needed to talk some sense into his son before she smacked some into the _Élan_. The second was to Remy, to inform him that she was coming to stay with him and Jules, that she would be arriving as soon as it could be arranged and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Simon drove her out the next day, the long journey quiet and both travelers deep in their own thoughts. Remy wasn't there to meet them at the bottom of the drive and Simon was very reluctant to approach the house without permission. He didn't want to hurt Jules.

But Remy wasn't answering his cell either and that was not a very good sign. Simon drove cautiously, entered the house quietly, and froze at what he saw.

There was blood, so much dried blood, and glass broken out of a blood spattered picture frame that was swinging and close to falling from its crooked perch on the wall. The glass crunched underfoot as he went in, as he tracked more bloody footprints across the dark tile floor and ran to find the source of all the gore.

It was just around the bend in the hallway and turned out to be Jules' head. His baby cousin was curled in a ball on the floor, her eyes wide open and fixed even as blood from the cut on her temple ran into them. She looked like she was crying tears of blood.

Remy was kneeling over the girl, trying hard to stem the bleeding even as he gasped desperately for air. His face was pale and ashy, his long auburn-silver hair coming out of the neat ponytail he was keeping it in those days. He'd been unable to get up from that spot since four o'clock in the morning.

And nothing about it was fair. Nothing at all.

xxXxx

"Why?"

As Simon gently picked shards of glass out of his baby cousin's skull, that question was the only question bouncing around in his.

Jules continued staring out the window, as she'd been since he carried her up to her room. She seemed calmer, a little bit more lucid, but she still wasn't talking.

"Look at me, _petite_," Simon demanded sternly, still very careful as he cleaned the blood from her pretty face.

Seeming startled by hearing a voice, the girl flinched and finally turned to peer owlishly at who she saw. "Simon," Jules forced out, swallowing thickly as real tears finally sprang into her eyes, spilling down her cheeks and streaking white lines through the crusted red staining them. Without further warning, she threw her arms around his neck and began to sob.

"Simon, it was awful!!" She cried, blood and tears and snot soaking into the teen's t-shirt, "I thought I was ok but den I-I-I got so scared and it hurt so bad!! Like dere were a whole bunch of great big teeth sinking into my chest a-and it felt like I was gonna die and it wouldn't stop!!"

"Shh," Simon soothed, cradling Jules against his chest as the little mutant trembled uncontrollably, "Nobody's dyin'. I got you. We gonna get through dis."

She sniffled and clung tightly to a handful of his shirt, ruby-onyx eyes wide and shining as she stared up into her cousin's face. "How come you don't hurt?" Jules questioned very softly, seeming both grateful and wary of the fact, "I can still kinda feel you in my head, but it don't hurt like everybody else."

"Don't know," Simon answered quietly, reaching out to rinse his washcloth in a bowl of warm, clean water before pressing it back to Jules' temple, "How come you ran your head into a wall?"

Jules frowned, her hand coming up to feel the cut and coming back down tinged red. "I don't remember doing it," She whispered, so lost and afraid, "I-I just wanted whatever was happening to me to stop." Her small body shook with a convulsive sob as she once again buried her face against Simon's lean chest, "I just want it all to stop!!"

xxXxx

On a walk to clear his head, Simon came across a small patch of blood and deer tracks near the edge of the swamp water not quite fifty yards from the house. He concluded that a gator must have killed a large buck the night before; he also concluded that feeling the animal die must have been what triggered Jules' episode.

He reported this to his uncle, who was still being fussed over by Tante as he slowly recovered from the asthma attack he gave himself when he was chasing after his hysterical daughter. Remy claimed that it didn't make sense; he and Jules had been nearly a month in the property that was bordered on all sides by swampland. Animals must have killed other animals at other times during that month and she didn't feel them then, so why now?

When Simon presented these facts to Jules, she grudgingly, shamefully revealed a small supply of very strong prescription sedatives, confessing that she'd found them in with her things when she was unpacking. They were from Dr. McCoy and included a note, filled with apologies and well wishes and instructions for safely taking the drugs should the girl start to feel too overwhelmed. She hadn't planned on using them, but the insomnia was so bad and she felt so nauseas and scared when the voices wouldn't let her sleep through the nights, when she could feel her papa refusing to sleep unless she was. She couldn't be responsible for making her papa sick on top of fraught with worry and had started taking the medication regularly.

It helped. A little.

The night before, Jules had gotten sick, which was not uncommon those days, and she threw up the pills soon after taking them. She didn't think of taking more, of the possibility that the sleepy little animal twinges she sometimes got during the day would be more active in the dark until after she began feeling the panic and terror of the hunted deer. By then it was too late.

She begged Simon not to tell. It was the only thing that helped her get the little sleep she managed and she only took the amount Dr. McCoy said in his letter; she didn't want her papa to know. He would be disappointed in her and he would make her stop. Remy had similarly experimented with depressants to quiet his powers when he was in his teenage years; it very nearly became an addiction and he would not allow his daughter to follow the same route.

Simon didn't know what to do. He didn't want Jules to be in pain, but he also didn't want her dependent on drugs. Driving home was a chore. The trip was long, the sky was dark, and he had quite a lot on his mind... so much so that he didn't realize just how fast he was going until he saw the flashing lights in his rearview mirror...

"_Merde_," He groaned, slowly guiding the truck to the side of the highway and praying silently for a bit of leniency. In retrospect, Simon realized what a bad place he chose to park; it was dark and sheltered, nearly invisible from the road.

"Evening," The officer, young and oozing cockiness, greeted as he pointed the intense flashlight beam right into Simon's eyes, "License and registration."

Simon easily surrendered both, hoping to get out of the stop with just a warning. He was really not in the mood to have to deal with a traffic ticket on top of everything else.

The officer suddenly snatched his wallet out of his hands, which was extremely strange, and stared at the smiling photo of Jules that Simon had in it. The cop flipped through a few more and his whole demeanor changed. He grew cold and angry, once again blinding Simon with his flashlight as he demanded, "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

Already bristling at the treatment, the blonde held his hand up to shield his face from the light and responded, "_Oui_, _monsieur_. I think I might've been speeding just a bit."

The cop remained silent but Simon could sense his deep glare from behind the blinding flashlight beam. "Eh..." He attempted, "I'm very sorry and won't never do it again?"

Glaring fiercely, the policeman challenged, "You think you're funny or something, you little punk?"

"Huh?" Simon answered in confusion.

"Step out of the vehicle," The officer ordered, glaring coldly down through the open window.

Simon could have screamed, but simply sighed and did as he was asked. No sooner had he set foot out of his car than the policeman grabbed him roughly by the collar, pinning his arms behind his back and slamming him facedown against the hood. Before the young man could protest, he had a pair of cuffs slapped around his wrists.

"What de-" He protested weakly, attempting to shove himself up, shove the cop off his back.

However, before he could do either, he caught the barest hint of movement in the corner of his eye and the rear of his skull erupted into searing agony. He could almost feel the tender row of staples that were holding it together burst apart. For a few moments, Simon could not see, could not breathe. During those moments, he vaguely registered the fact that the cop had just viciously clubbed him.

When the pain subsided a bit, when he could open his eyes without feeling completely nauseas, Simon straightened up and glanced around. Even though his vision was a bit fuzzy, he could see the officer standing over him, angry and smug. He shoved Simon's own wallet into the teen's face, holding Jules' photo almost too close to make out.

"Who is she?" The cop demanded, practically frothing, "Who's the little fucking mutie bitch?"

"_Va te faire foutre_!!" (kiss my ass) Simon raged back, struggling furiously against the handcuffs as he advanced on the officer, "You don't talk about her like dat!!"

Before he could get very far, the cop hit him again, raising his club and bringing it down against the blonde's temple. He saw stars, stumbling over into the mud at the side of the road.

"Every cop in the city's been looking for the mutie," The cop spat, "She blew up half of downtown, made us all look like idiots, and then vanished without a trace. Now you tell me her name and maybe I won't kill her when I find her!"

He was lying, Simon somehow instantly knew; he could see it clear as day, see the cop standing over Jules' naked and beaten little body, see the cop laughing cruelly as he pointed his gun at her and-

_BANG!_

Simon's body twitched in time with the phantom shot, pulling him back into reality. He was breathing had, terrified but so much more angry, almost so much he couldn't see straight... though that maybe have had something to do with the blood he could feel trickling down the back of his neck and the side of his face. He was dizzy, his gaze blurry. His head was throbbing, burning intensely from the inside out, and he stared dead into the policeman's eyes. "_Allez à l'enfer_," (go to hell) Simon hissed, spitting on the man's feet.

He was never quite sure when things changed. Once second, the cop was raising his club, about to strike Simon once more, and the next... he just... wasn't. Looking suddenly dazed and confused, the officer let his arm slowly drop, let the baton slip from his limp fist and into the same mud puddle in which Simon was sprawled. The man's gaze was far-off, blank, as he turned around and marched past one of the large trees that was sheltering them from the view of the highway.

Only a few moments later, Simon heard tires screech, heard two tons of metal obliterate two hundred pounds of flesh.

Shaking, stunned, he found himself unable to move for the longest time, not until he began to hear sirens and the part of his brain that was in charge of self-preservation kicked in.

He picked his cuffs, retrieved his wallet from the ground and all his information out of the patrol car. He knew the license plate number, if it was called in ahead of time, would never lead back to him; he wiped his blood and prints from the officer's dropped baton. Still trembling convulsively, the teen got back in his truck and slowly, carefully, drove a few miles down the side of the highway with his lights off before finally rejoining the normal flow of cars.

The waves of nausea and dizziness, the blood soaking into the collar of his shirt didn't disturb or frighten him half as much as the fact that, before it had actually happened, he'd had a fleeting wish for the officer to walk himself into traffic.

xxxxxxxxxx

Ta da!! Finally, right? Hehe, ya. Sorry this one took so long. I was a little stuck on it and then school and real life interfered, but hopefully my recent success in finishing this chapter means that I am newly inspired and I'll have more for you soon! Reviews, as always, are highly encouraged and greatly appreciated :-)


	12. Part 12: Worst Poisons to Men's Souls

Part 12 - Worst Poisons to Men's Souls

Mercy was frantic; Simon had been due home hours ago and was not answering his cell. No one matching his description had been brought into any hospitals within a hundred miles--she'd called them all--and no one had seen him since he dropped Tante off with Remy and Jules the night before. It was getting close to morning, and he was still nowhere to be found.

She'd never been the type of person who dealt well with sitting around doing nothing when something was clearly happening. But someone needed to be at home in case he returned. So Mercy sat and did nothing, fidgeting in the nervous silence of her suddenly too large home.

Jean-Luc and Henri had gone out to search for the woman's second son, dispatching nearly the entire Guild to help. Nico had taken Ani with him in a borrowed car; Lapin dragged Christien along on his own search; Emile and Theo were scouring the entire county on motorcycles. Lucille was there trying to comfort her cousin-in-law, but, despite the petite brunette's best efforts, she wasn't helping.

"What if he's hurt?" Mercy blurted to fill the silence, tears stinging her eyes as her voice cracked, "What if something bad's happened? Lucille, he's my baby. I-I just... I can't take watching him die a second time."

"I know, _miel_," Lucille answered, pulling the taller blonde into a comforting, sisterly embrace. She guided Mercy's head to rest on her shoulder before soothing, "I'm sure he's fine. Dey're gonna call any minute saying dey found him. You'll see."

It seemed like the moment when the phone would miraculously ring. Mercy stared at it for what seemed like forever and began to sob when the room stayed smotheringly silent.

xxXxx

Simon wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been driving and didn't remember ever making a conscious decision as to his destination. It surprised the teen when he suddenly found himself back at the hidden manor in the swamps just as the sun was spilling over the horizon.

Mindful of Jules' vulnerable mind, he parked his truck nearly a mile away and walked slowly towards the house, trying desperately to calm down, to quiet his fear, panic, and anger. To stay conscious as his head throbbed and bled.

She heard him anyways, the girl barefoot and only half-dressed when she came stumbling clumsily down the long drive. "_Petite_," Simon called, running sluggishly to meet his baby cousin, who was now a wild-eyed, lanky teenager in an almost unfamiliar body. He caught her as she hurled herself into his arms, admonishing, "What you doing out here dis early? And why ain't you wearing your shoes?"

Sniffling, shivering in the early morning chill and a thin set of faded blue, short-sleeved pajamas, Juliette buried her face against the teen's lean chest and mumbled, "Heard you coming. Really mad and scared and _hurt_! I was worried."

Simon managed an affectionate chuckle, squeezing Jules tight against him as he pressed a kiss against the fresh bandage on her temple. "I'm alright," He half-heartedly assured, "Just need a staple gun so I can fix my head. Think dis place might have one lying around?"

An almost unhinged giggle bubbled up out of Jules' throat, her spindly arms winding around his neck. "_Non_, but I'll bet Tante'll sew it for ya," She joked lightly, "Even embroider it real pretty. You want flowers or butterflies?"

"Brat," Simon sighed, still dizzy, getting very tired now that he was someplace safe and could finally relax. He was having a hard time staying on his feet, wobbling precariously as he announced, "Think I need to get inside and lie down. You feeling up to helping me a bit?"

Nodding, Jules quickly arranged them so that her big cousin was leaning heavily against her bony shoulder. Simon took a moment to once again marvel at how much height she'd gained in the two short months that had passed since her powers manifested. She had to be at least 5'5", probably even taller. He dreaded the possibility that she might outgrow him.

She was also becoming even more devastatingly beautiful, lean and long and developing lovely womanly curves. The possibility--inevitability, really--that she would one day be chased after by a bunch of horny boys was also quite frightening to Simon. He didn't want to ever kill again but knew that, where Jules or any of the rest of his family was concerned, he was more than capable.

"So what happened?" The raven-haired mutant questioned pleasantly as they began walking back to the house, "Everybody's been looking for you since last night."

Simon frowned; he hadn't thought about that and instantly felt guilty that he'd probably made his parents sick with worry. Again. "Long story, _chéri_," He muttered tiredly, "Tell ya after I call _mon père_."

xxXxx

"_I-I think I killed a cop_."

Henri's heart nearly stopped when he hurriedly pressed his cell to his ear and heard his son's voice utter that phrase. "What?" He demanded shakily, hands tightening around the steering wheel of his car. It became a struggle to keep his eyes on the road and the vehicle from swerving out of control. In the passenger seat, Jean-Luc leaned in closer to catch the conversation. The old man had good ears.

"_I think I killed a cop_," Simon repeated, voice trembling and stunned and weak, "_Last night. I didn't mean to. I don't even know how it happened_-"

"Where are ya, _mon fils_?" Henri cut him off, for the moment unable to handle any information aside from his son's location and an assurance of the boy's safety.

"_At de swamp house with Jules_," The teen answered shakily, "_I'm real sorry. I didn't mean to disappear but I wasn't thinking straight. And my head is killing me._"

Henri slowed his car and pulled over to the side of the road, not trusting himself to drive as his heart began to hammer erratically and his stomach contorted itself into vicious knots. He let out a shaky breath before instructing, "Stay put. And call your _maman_ to let her know you're alright. She ain't gonna calm down 'til she hears your voice. Me and your _grand- père _are on our way."

"'_K_," Simon slowly stated, pausing for a beat before adding, "_Uh, wait. Jules wants to talk to you_."

There were some sounds of shuffling as the phone was handed off. Eventually, Juliette's light, really rather eerie voice came through the phone's speaker. "Bonjour, Oncle _Henri_," The girl greeted pleasantly, almost-laughing, "_You should probably bring Monsieur Gaulle up here with you. Simon's gonna need some new staples in his head. We couldn't find a staple gun or else I could do it._"

"_Merde_," Henri swore, closing his eyes tightly because he felt like he was about to cry, "What happened?

"_I guess Simon killed a cop_," Jules replied, a shrug clearly evident in her little voice, "_He ain't told me de story yet, but, from de way he looks, de cop might've had it coming_."

Henri could barely whimper as he let his forehead drop to touch the steering wheel.

"_Ok_," Jules bubbled brightly, "_I guess I'll see you in a little while. Don't worry, I'll take good care of Simon. _Au revoir"

The other end of the call went dead but Henri couldn't find the strength to move the phone away from his ear. He was _freaking out_. He'd just gotten his boy back and this was _not happening again_.

"Why don't I drive," Jean-Luc suggested kindly, laying a comforting hand on his grown son's broad shoulder, "It'll be a few hours and you really need to work on calming down 'fore we get dere or else Jules'll start screaming and Remy'll kick you right out."

Nodding, Henri got slowly out of the car and walked around to the passenger side.

xxXxx

After hanging up with his tearful and relieved _maman_, Simon sighed heavily and stretched out across the floor of the sitting room. He was careful to keep the towel Jules had provided pressed against the back of his skull so his blood wouldn't make too big a mess.

The little mutant girl was lying beside him, her eyes closed as she rested her ear against his heart and hummed in time with the strong, lazy pound it was sounding inside his ribcage.

"Alright, _petite_?" He questioned blearily, reaching out to card his blood-stained and -sticky fingers through her silky raven hair. Had he had more of a coherent thought process, he might've felt guilty and stopped, but, as it was, the contact made him feel infinitely better about his situation.

"Mhmm," She happily replied, "You're quiet. No screaming inside my head. Just a nice _thump thump thump_... I know that you're scared but you're not yelling it. Only a little whisper."

A sheepish grin crossed Simon's freckled face. "Well, I'm glad I don't hurt you," He stated, "And I'm only scared cuz I ain't really sure what I did. I mean, I know what happened, and I know what I think it means, but..."

"It doesn't make sense," Jules finished, curling against him like a contented kitten, "You're not de freak. I am."

"You're _not_ a freak," The blonde sternly admonished, holding his cousin closer, "Don't ever let me catch you saying dat again or I'll kick yo' skinny little behind, y'hear?"

"Promises, promises," Jules laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing.

Simon continued to tenderly stroke her hair, asking, "What is it?"

"Papa woke up," She declared, her voice breaking into a helpless whimper, the coherency and lucidity she'd grasped onto already slipping, "His dreams were quiet cuz dey weren't about me and now I'm all he can think about. He tries not to let me hear but he's _so loud_ sometimes. Worry, worry, worry, fear. Worry, worry, worry, fear. Worry, worry, worry, fear, _anger_. It's all he ever thinks about and it makes him sting."

The two remained quiet for a few moments while Jules took deep, shuddering breaths. Finally, Simon gently inquired, "Why don't you tell him he's hurting you?"

Sniffling, Juliette replied, "Cuz he'll leave and I'll be all alone."

"No, you won't," The blonde argued, his whole body feeling like it was spinning though he was lying completely still on the cool floor, "You're never alone, _petite_. You got dat? Never."

Jules didn't say anything for awhile, beginning to shudder and cry as she curled against Simon's side. "Papa's gonna check on me soon," She stated sadly, "He's gonna see I'm not in my room and he's gonna panic. Sorry if I start screaming."

Simon continued to pet her hair, wishing he had the energy to do something, to warn his uncle as he soothed, "You got nothing to be sorry for, _ange_."

Jules already wasn't listening, breathing hard as she tried and failed to stay in control for just a few more seconds. She turned her face against Simon's chest and began to shriek.

xxXxx

Jules was not in her bed and Remy was struck with a brief moment of absolute terror.

Almost instantly, he heard her answering screams come from downstairs and was running before he could think to run.

By the time he arrived in the vast, dingy sitting room, the auburn-haired mutant had mostly gotten a hold on his own emotions. His gaze fell to his daughter, on the floor and weeping pitifully into her big cousin's lean chest as the boy tried weakly to comfort her. Remy didn't quite know why Simon was there or why his head was bleeding but could clearly see the concern in the teen's soft brown eyes, concern that quickly became annoyance as he turned them on his uncle.

"Go for a walk, Uncle Remy," Simon ordered impatiently, not leaving very much room for argument, "Come back when you can be quiet."

It was very hard for the man to obey; every instinct he had was urging him towards his daughter, urging him to close her tightly in his arms and take away all her pain. But this time he was the one causing it and he had to go.

Remy turned and ran from the house, ran as far as his scarred lungs could carry him. Somewhere deep in the swamp, he let himself collapse on a fallen tree trunk and began to sob.

xxXxx

Simon met them on the sweeping patio of the house, reclining lazily in a rocking porch swing. He was bloody and battered, and his gaze was far off, but the young man was still managing to attempt conversation with his distraught uncle. Remy had been sitting on the stoop for hours; he refused to move or to pick his head up out of his shaking hands

Jean-Luc slowed the car and jumped out. Henri quickly followed and both men rushed to aid their sons.

"Papa," Simon whined petulantly as his nervous father began to inspect the gash just above his hairline on the right, "Papa, quit it. I'm fine. You gotta calm down!"

"You disappear, den call me up saying you killed a cop, den I find you beaten to hell, and you want me to _calm down_?" Henri bellowed, rather irate by that point, "And just how do you expect me to do dat, boy?"

"I know, Papa," Simon pouted, the blonde not looking anywhere near seventeen-years-old as his brown eyes glistened up at his father, "I'll explain it all, but you gotta relax or else Jules is gonna feel ya!"

A self-pitying moan came from Remy and Simon shot him a harsh glare. Jean-Luc, seeming to catch on, pulled his younger son up from the steps and sagely suggested, "Come on, Remy. You and me are gonna take a walk to clear our heads, _d'accord_?" The auburn-haired thief allowed himself to be lead away without resistance.

When the two were gone, Henri fell back to inspecting Simon's injuries and very shortly discovered that the staples on the back of his boy's head had been split wide open. Absolutely furious, the stocky brunette's face went rigid and stony as he demanded, "Who did dis to ya?"

"Traffic cop," Simon answered, wincing a bit before slapping his father's hands away, "Leave it be. Tante said it stopped bleeding serious hours ago."

"Where is Tante?" Henri asked, firing off questions in a rapid, anxious succession, "What's wrong with Remy? What did de traffic cop do to you? He de one you killed? Are you alright? What happened?"

"Tante took Jules on a walk," Simon volunteered, slowly getting to his feet and beckoning his father inside the house as he held a blood soaked towel against the back of his head, "Dey're hopefully a few miles away by now so dat she wouldn't feel you when you came. You'd better be quiet though or she'll feel you anyways and probably blow something up. Uncle Remy's upset cuz he hurt her earlier when he worried too loud."

The teen paused for a moment in the kitchen, brown eyes sad as he transparently changed the subject, "Monsieur Gaulle coming?"

"He's on his way," Henri quipped impatiently, "Be here in an hour or so. You didn't answer all my questions. What did de cop do to you?"

With a great sigh, Simon lowered himself into a seat at the table and motioned for his father to do the same. He remained silent for only another moment before blurting, "He stopped me for speeding on de way home last night. Everything was normal until he saw de picture of Jules I've got in my wallet. Told me to get out of de car, and before I knew what was happening, he had me cuffed and pinned on de hood."

An audible growl reverberated out of Henri's chest and all around the spacious kitchen.

"I tried to throw him off," Simon continued sadly, "But dat's when he hit me on de back of de head. When I could see straight again, he started shoving de picture in my face, wanting to know Jules' name and saying nasty things about her. I yelled at him not to, and he hit me again right here-" He gingerly touched his right temple "-I got knocked down to de ground and he started telling me about how de cops've been looking for Jules since her powers went out of control. He said if I told him her name dat maybe he wouldn't kill her when he found her."

Henri's control was slipping.

Almost near tears as he finally confessed the whole horrifying incident, as he finally let loose and broke down, Simon could barely meet his father's gaze. "But he was lying, _père_!" The young man raged, "I could see it in my head dat he wanted to hurt Jules! Dat he was gonna enjoy hurting her a-and den killing her! I-I told him to go to hell and I was staring right up in his eyes and thinking dat I wished he would walk himself into traffic. He was gonna hit me again, and den... I don't know what happened. He just dropped de baton and walked away. I-I heard de accident and I know he couldn't have survived and it's my fault!"

"Shh," Henri soothed, pulling his strong boy into a tight embrace, letting Simon hide his face as he began to sob, "It's ok, _mon fils_. Dis wasn't your fault. No matter what, you remember dat."

"But I killed him!" Simon argued, feeling small, helpless and humiliated as his snot and tears ran into his father's t-shirt, as his well-muscled arms and clenched fingers clung desperately to it, "I don't know how, but I did! I killed him, Papa!"

Holding his son as the boy cried, Henri was suddenly terrified for Jules' safety. Simon's grief and guilt were almost too much for him and he wasn't even an empath.

xxXxx

"_Ma petite __espiègle_!" Tante Mattie called, craning her neck all the way backwards and planting her gnarled fists on her plump hips. Watching nervously as Jules shimmied effortlessly straight up a cypress trunk, the woman ordered, "You get yo' skinny behind down from dere right dis second! You gonna crack yo' skull open if you fall!"

"Ain't gonna fall, Tante," Juliette laughed brightly, for once enjoying relative quiet and reveling in it. She'd found just the right amount of pills to take to block out the simple animal minds with no effort at all, was far enough away from the house to ignore the frightened humans in it, and could just barely hear Tante. Even that wasn't so bad; the old woman's thoughts felt like song, like a calming lullaby.

Still, Jules could sense Tante's rising displeasure squeezing around her head like a vise; it was starting to make her dizzy. If the woman kept it up, the girl really was going to fall.

"_S'il vous plaît_?" Jules pouted down at her, expression angelic and pleading, "I feel good right now and I wanna enjoy it while it lasts."

Almost immediately, the jaws of the vise loosened, Tante's weathered face softening as she conceded, "Alright. But be careful, _mon chaton_. And you tell Tante if you start feelin' sick, y'hear?"

"_Oui_," Jules happily agreed, turning back to her climb, "_Merci_."

In only a few short minutes, the little mutant made it to the very top of the tree. It was quiet up there. So very quiet. Jules closed her eyes and smiled, balancing precariously at the top of the world. A few hours there would be just what the girl needed to start her healing.

xxXxx

"Are you sure dis is a good idea?" Ani LeBeau asked anxiously as Nico guided the car up the swamp house's long drive, "I don't want to hurt Jules."

"_Mon père_ said dat she'd be out of de house all day," Christien piped from the back seat, still fiddling with a pile of electronics, and cables, and tools, "Everyone came to see Simon and decide what to do about him. Dey didn't want her anywhere nearby while all de extra people are around so dey sent her into de swamp with Tante. It's de perfect time for dis. We gonna be long gone before she even knows we're dere."

"Works for me," Nico beamed happily, smiling at his little cousin in the rearview as he parked. He was thrilled that Christien seemed to mostly be over his abandonment issues and was actively going out of his way to help Jules feel better. It was certainly a welcome change from the brooding and bitching the redhead had been engaged in previously.

"De big-ass TV and stereo stay downstairs," The Élan instructed as the three young men piled out of the truck and began unloading boxes of not-exactly-legally-obtained goods, "De little ones go in Jules' and Simon's rooms with de computers and webcams. Videogames stay downstairs and one of de DVD players, too. Leave de movies and CDs wherever and I'll start hooking everything up."

Nico and Ani gave a pair of semi-sarcastic salutes and quickly got to work.

xxXxx

Remy LeBeau was building an impenetrable steel wall around his mind.

He had to, he reasoned, because he never, ever again wanted to hurt his daughter so carelessly. The only sure way he could think of to do that was to completely cut his emotions off from her. He hadn't done so before because he wanted to be able to make her feel loved and safe whenever she became too scared or hopeless, but, after that morning, he just couldn't risk it anymore.

Besides, he needed to start teaching Jules how to build her own walls. He was making a mental inventory of steps as he went, of tricks and ways to make the process easier on her vulnerable mind. It was an exhaustive process, one he wasn't looking forward to watching Jules be subjected, but such was necessary.

They were going to get through this. He was going to get his happy, beautiful baby daughter back.

"Remy?" He heard his father question, the old man's voice far off. Remy pulled himself slowly out of the meditative state he'd entered, opening his glowing eyes and blinking in the harsh light of the setting sun.

"You alright?" Jean-Luc asked quietly, taking a seat beside his son on the sunny swamp bank they'd stopped at so many hours ago.

The mutant gave a worn-out nod, rubbing his temples and sighing, "_Oui_. I think I did it. At least for awhile." He got to his feet and immediately stumbled, leaving his father to dart out and catch him. The old King of Thieves was far more agile than his age would indicate.

"Let's get you back," Jean-Luc declared, fully supporting his son's drained, dense, dead weight, "You gonna need a long rest."

xxXxx

When Jules arrived back at the house, it felt empty.

But she knew it wasn't.

She knew that Simon was upstairs, in the room he'd been assigned after his father, and mother, and Jean-Luc had decided that it was probably best if he hid out for a little while. She knew he had a terrible headache, that he was drowsy from the pills he'd been given after Monsieur Gaulle stitched and stapled his head back together, that he was crying because he'd killed a man and hated himself for it.

She knew that he wouldn't want to talk to anyone until at least the next morning.

She knew that her father was in his bed as well, absolutely exhausted but... also completely and utterly silent; she could hardly sense him at all. Jules furrowed her brow in confusion and followed the only other mind she could feel in the whole house.

"Ey, _petite_," Jean-Luc greeted as she wandered into the kitchen. He smiled at her from behind the wide marble counter and his steaming mug of coffee, "How you been?"

"_Grand-père_!" Jules beamed, skipping happily into his embrace, thrilled to realize how steady and warm the old man's thoughts were. He wasn't intrusive or deafening, and she decided that she loved him all over again.

With a chuckle, the old King squeezed his granddaughter tight and remarked, "You seem to be in a good mood, _ma mignonne_. I ain't too loud for ya?"

"Nuh uh," Jules replied, smiling as she buried her face against his chest, teasing, "Must be cuz you're so old."

Laughing, he swatted her lightly on the behind, scolding, "Not too old to put you over my knee. Just remember dat now."

The pair held onto their embrace for what seemed like ages.

"Got a surprise for ya," Jean-Luc announced when they finally pulled back slightly, his deep voice filled with mischief, "Though I really didn't have much to do with it."

"I know," Jules sighed elatedly, not bothering to let go, "Simon's staying. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him. I'll walk him and feed him and love him to bits."

"Well, dat," The King laughed, giving his funny little granddaughter a swift kiss right between the smooth crimson horns growing out of her pale forehead, as well as another tender one on the clean bandage taped to her temple, "But dere's more. Nico, and Ani, and Élan came by while you were out. Dey left some presents."

A slow smile spread across her pretty face. "Presents?" The little devil girl inquired, interest apparent.

"_Oui_," Jean-Luc replied, "Go on and look in de living room and your bedroom. Dose cousins of yours set you up in style."

With a delighted squeal, Juliette turned and skipped out, passing Tante and her fond grin on the way.

"She seems a whole helluva lot better," Jean-Luc remarked as he reached out to pour the old woman a cup of coffee.

"Don't swear," Tante automatically replied, laying down a small basket of wild herbs she'd gathered before sliding the sugar bowl towards herself, "Let's just pray to de Lawd it'll last."

"She'll make it," The King wisely and resolutely proclaimed, "Our Juliette's always been a fighter. Not a thing in de world could keep dat hellion down long... Simon's de one I'm worried about."

Tante's face softened sadly as a tense pause followed. She sipped her steamy drink before gently asking, "How is he?"

Jean-Luc shrugged, replying, "Good as can be expected, I guess. We still don't even understand what happened."

"Po' chile," Tante sniffed, her old heart breaking, "He don't have a murderous bone in his whole body, and here he is with a man's death on his conscience... I just can't believe it's true."

Running a strong, wrinkled hand back through thick salt-and-pepper hair, the King answered, "_Oui_, me either. But he believes it and dat's all dat's gonna matter."

xxXxx

Jules had a giant TV, a shiny DVD player, a cutting-edge videogame system, and a stereo that could blow out all the windows in the house, should she so desire to; and that was just the living room. The mutant girl was excited to see what else her cousins had left for her as she skipped upstairs towards her bedroom.

On the way, she leaned cautiously outside Simon's door and felt his quiet sorrow; she leaned cautiously outside her papa's and felt... absolutely nothing. That was almost terrifying. She peaked her head in, just to make sure Remy was still breathing and was comforted by the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept heavily.

Satisfied, for the moment, she continued on her way and grinned happily when she found another, smaller TV and DVD player, as well as a brand new laptop in her bedroom. Knowing that Christien would never stand to not be included in any operation involving so many electronics, Jules instinctively knew that her sweet redheaded cousin had set up the satellite cable and wireless internet in the house. It must have taken him all day, and quite a bit of hardware. The old manor was far away from civilization, after all, and did not have much in the way of modern technology. He would have had to do it all completely from scratch.

So Jules wasn't surprised when she turned the computer on and found that everything was in perfect working order, that her instant messenger automatically signed on and a group conversation window immediately popped up, Christien, Nico, and Ani greeting her, in that order.

**Bullwinkle.J:** Hey!

**St.Nic: **Hello, petite!

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** Bonjour!

Vaguely aware that her ruby-onyx eyes were rapidly filling with tears, Jules laughed fondly for a moment before her nimble fingers began flying over the keyboard as she typed her reply.

**JuleThief:** Hi, guys! You were certainly busy today.

**Bullwinkle.J:** Everything working ok?

**JuleThief:** Of course. You're a genius, Elan.

**St.Nic: **Me and Ani helped!

**Little.Orphan.Anatole: **Ya!

**JuleThief:** I know. Grand-pere told me. Thanks so much. It's amazing!

**St.Nic:** For the amount of warehouses Christien made us break into to steal all the stuff, it had better be.

**JuleThief:** Aw, you planned a heist just for me?

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** Several. And I almost got bit by a dog.

**Bullwinkle.J:** No big deal. I wanted to make up for hurting you the other day. I'm real sorry, Jules.

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** It was a big dog.

**JuleThief:** It's ok. I know you didn't do it on purpose. And a lot of it's my fault anyways. I'm sorry I left. I just got so scared.

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** Probably rabid, too.

**Bullwinkle.J:** I understand and I'm not mad anymore. You only left because you thought you had to.

**JuleThief:** Ya. For all the good it did. Stupid spook broke my head.

**St.Nic:** Simon had a grand scheme lined up to get back at all the XMen. Guess it's going to have to wait now that he's a fugitive. His timing sure does suck.

**JuleThief:** Don't tease him. He didn't mean to do it and he feels awful.

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** Really?

**Bullwinkle.J:** What did he do? No one will tell us.

**JuleThief:** Of course. And he accidentally made a policeman walk himself into traffic.

**St.Nic:** WHAT? HOW?

**JuleThief:** He's different now. I think I did it to him.

**Bullwinkle.J:** How?

**JuleThief:** Hitting him with my powers. He was supposed to have died, but didn't, and I think that whatever Papa did when he saved me when I was a baby, I must've done to Simon and it changed him, too.

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** That actually makes sense. Did you tell anyone your theory yet?

**JuleThief:** Non, not yet. I'll talk to Simon about it in the morning. I don't think he wants to see anyone right now.

**Bullwinkle.J:** Well, when we heard he'd probably be staying with you, we stole one more computer and set it up for him in his room. And I made him a new screen name.

**JuleThief:** What is it? Just in case I feel too lazy to go across the hall to talk to him one of these days, haha.

**St.Nic:** We decided on **Lazarus**.

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** Thought it was fitting.

**JuleThief:** Cool, but I don't know if he'll like it.

**Bullwinkle.J:** Tough.

**JuleThief:** Since when did you get all heartless?

**St.Nic:** The little one has grown so much in your absence. It brings a tear to the eye.

**Bullwinkle.J:** I'm taller than you, smart ass.

**JuleThief:** Has the whole social order collapsed without me around to keep the peace?

**Little.Orphan.Anatole:** Haha. Peace. Right.

**JuleThief:** You're a mean man, Ani LeBeau.

**St.Nic:** Ooo! Did you hear that our little Ani's got himself a girlfriend?

**JuleThief:** No way!! Who's the lucky lady?

**St.Nic:** Yvette Gaulle! They've been sucking face all over the house!

**JuleThief:** Aw, she's liked him for years! That's SOOOO cute!! Are you going to marry her, Ani? ;)

A long pause in the flow of type followed. Jules laughed at her cousin's apparent embarrassment before Nico began the conversation once more.

**St.Nic:** Haha, petit frere's gone all quiet.

**JuleThief: **Haha, so he has. I wish I was there to enjoy the furious blush he's definitely got going!

**Bullwinkle.J:** Turn on your webcam! We've all got ones, too!

**JuleThief:** Awesome! You really went all out!

The girl fiddled with the piece of equipment for a moment, activating it before requesting the video link with Ani's computer. After a few moments of not getting a response, she began typing again.

**JuleThief:** He ain't accepting the link.

**Bullwinkle.J:** I'll make it go through. Just one minute.

True to his word, a short time later, Christien had the webcams up and running. The redhead grinned brightly into his and gave a shy wave; Nico did the same and Jules smiled and waved back at both.

Ani was unaware that he had an audience. A great big giggle bubbled out of Jules' throat as she surveyed her dark-haired cousin at home in his room. He was talking on his cellphone, probably to his new girlfriend if the dark blush on his cheeks and big stupid smile on his face were any indication.

**JuleThief:** That's adorable!!

**Bullwinkle.J:** You say that now. Just wait until you have to sit through an entire dinner with them playing footsie and making googly eyes at each other. It's nauseasting.

**JuleThief:** Probably not going to be a problem for me in the immediate future, but thanks for your concern.

**Bullwinkle.J: **I didn't mean it like that, Jules. I'm sure you'll get better in no time. You're you.

**St.Nic:** Ya. Stay strong, kiddo!

**JuleThief:** Haha. You know, you hide it better, but I think that, deep down, you're a bigger nerd than Ani is.

**St.Nic:** Brat.

xxXxx

Jules had several good days all in a row. With her father's mind finally quiet and with Simon there to keep her company, the girl's spirits were picking up. She played video games, and watched movies, and chatted online, and ate all of the wonderful foods Tante cooked for her. The situation was getting better.

Remy had even talked her into doing a little training with all of her powers. Juliette practiced igniting a set of playing cards her father had given her and tossing them into the swamp water, as well as attempting to raise some tentative mental blocks. They seemed to be working; after a week, she was able to tolerate an hour-long visit from Christien. They hugged and laughed and talked and were still best friends. Henri, Lapin, and Jean-Luc came, too. One at a time, the men said brief hellos to Jules, and checked on Simon, and then took Remy out for a lunch to try to help him relax.

But the day after that was a bad day. Jules woke with her head already feeling like an overfilled balloon. She'd overexerted herself and her defenses were low; the closest neighbor, the old widower, was crying for his wife and his thoughts were too much, they had invaded in the night.

She took her pills and tried to ignore the feeling, prayed that it would go away. She was supposed to be making progress. She didn't want to slip back to where she'd been.

Feeling like she was walking underwater in one of those ancient scuba helmets, Jules stumbled out of her room and into the hallway at about the same moment as Simon. Her big cousin was wearing only his well-worn pajama pants, his gold hair mussed from his futile attempts at sleep; he had gotten very little if the circles under his tired brown eyes were any indication. Still guilty over his role in the policeman's death, as well as worried and terrified about his developing ability, he had barely slept at all since he arrived at the manor. He had turned down all of Remy's attempts to help him begin figuring out and practicing with his power.

"Morning," The young man grunted, waiting for Jules to make it to his side before throwing a lean, muscular arm around her slim shoulders, "How you feeling, _petite_?"

"I dunno," Jules replied, jumpy but slow, already distracted by the dull whine of foreign sound in her head, "Alright, I guess."

"You guess?" Simon pushed, raising a skeptical eyebrow and trying not to wince as the action put stress on the healing stitches near his right temple.

"I'm fine," The raven-haired mutant insisted hotly, unwilling to admit she thought she might be slipping backwards, "Just hungry."

Reasonably placated, Simon guided them down the stairs side-by-side and agreed, "Ya, me too. Let's see what Tante's making. It sure does smell good."

Jules couldn't smell anything; the throbbing whispers in her head were taking too much focus for her to notice much else of her surroundings.

Breakfast passed tensely. Simon was depressed and confused and suddenly even his gentle mind seemed jarring. Tante's humming--Jules had no idea if it was aloud or only in her head--was grating instead of soothing and Remy's thoughts were starting to make it through his shields; he was relaxing and it wouldn't have even mattered if Jules hadn't already been so close to overload. The TV was on, blaring and inane as Remy and Simon flipped between the morning news and a basketball game, bickering all the while about which to settle on. The click of the remote buttons was like someone tapping at the base of Jules' skull with a ball peen hammer. The commercial jingles swirled through the air and their razor-sharp barbs caught hold in the girl's brain, layering over each other and lingering long after they were really over, a chorus of stuck machinegun repeaters. Outside the open windows, the chirp of birds and rodents and the buzz of insects and the steady lapping of water at the swamp shores became a roar. Every creature had a thought. Every creature had an instinct and a will and a desire and, however primitive, they were all suddenly in her head, competing for space and pushing and pushing out against the thick bone.

The sizzle of the bacon in the fry pan was the last straw, the last shrill sensation added to an already overwhelming cacophony.

Dropping her fork with a deafening clatter, Jules slapped her hands down over her ears and began to scream.

xxXxx

After four non-stop hours of listening to his daughter alternately scream and babble and cry, after rocking her and singing to her and crying with her, after exhausting every possible method he could think of to help her pull herself out of the fit into which she'd fallen, Remy reached reluctantly for the syringe of sedatives Alexandre had left in case of emergency.

Because it was an emergency; very much longer and Jules was going to start doing damage; her voice was already hoarse and torn and she was struggling harder and harder to escape her father's protective embrace, to get loose and look for _anything_ to bring the quiet back to her mind. Tante and Simon had been running around frantically, hiding anything Jules might injure herself with if she should break free but Remy knew that she could split her head open just as easily on the tile flooring in the entryway as she could on any of the glass picture frames that had once hung on the walls.

Simon paled when he saw the syringe, brown eyes flying wide as he asked, "What's dat?"

"Sedative," Remy admitted in defeat, fighting to restrain his daughter with one strong arm as she squirmed and screamed and gasped and begged for it to _stop_.

Standing in front of the living room couch, Simon fidgeted uncomfortably and pressed, "What kind?"

"Why does it matter?" His uncle snapped impatiently, unable to use the needle for fear of injuring Jules; she was moving far too much.

"'Cuz she could have a bad reaction to it," Simon warned nervously, hands twitching as he fought the urge to scratch the rows of numerous stitches and staples in his head.

"Alexandre said it would be ok to use if she got out of control, just to help her calm down," Remy answered gruffly, "Now would you help me hold her?"

"But what if she's taking other things?" The young man went on, shamefully unable to tear his gaze from the floor, "What if she's been taking pills?"

Despite Jules' continued shrieks, the room suddenly seemed eerily quiet as Remy stared menacingly at his nephew. He had to consciously wall up his growing fury. "_What_?" The auburn-haired mutant demanded, voice low and dangerous.

"I-I'm sorry," Simon stuttered, sheepishly producing an orange plastic bottle from the pocket of the worn sleep pants he had still not changed out of, "She begged me not to tell you! She said dey were de only thing dat helped!"

Another truly terrifying pause followed, during which Jules' screams tapered off into hopeless, bewildered sobs. "I'm so-orry, Papa," The girl managed to bawl between desperate gasps for breath, "I'm sorry. Please, do-don't be mad."

"_Non, mon seul amor_," Remy quickly soothed, heart leaping with hope because they were the first coherent words he'd heard out of his daughter since she began screaming so many hours ago. He squeezed the girl tight and peppered kisses to the crown of her head, trying to keep up whatever connection he'd managed to forge as he whispered, "I ain't mad at you. I ain't mad. I love you and I just want you to be ok. Can you take a deep breath for me? Take a deep breath and just try to relax. Dat's it. Dat's it, _ange_. Just you and me. We can do dis. We can do dis. _Je t'aime_. _Vous êtes mon monde entire_. 'member what you always tell me? Go slow. I'm right here. Not going anywhere, _ma belle fillette_..."

Gradually, the gasping sobs began to began to lessen, began to taper off. Jules' slim fingers latched tightly onto her father's worn t-shirt; her glowing eyes slid shut and she collapsed into a fitful, exhausted slumber.

Remy took a moment to calm himself, to cradle his baby in his arms and press a tender kiss to her forehead.

Then he turned to Simon. "Who gave her de pills?" The furious and dangerous mutant demanded.

xxXxx

"There does not seem to be anything _physically_ wrong with you, Mr. Sweet," Dr. Hank McCoy announced, putting the lab results aside as he surveyed his patient. The boy was looking even bluer than he was.

"That's good," Billy replied, startling violet eyes on the floor as he weakly bounced his legs against the end of the exam table, "Can I go?"

The Beast rolled a chair over to sit in front of the boy, lowering his large body into it. "The fact that my tests show no reasons for your symptoms only raises more questions," He stated, voice calm and gentle, "Your teachers did send you down here for a reason, after all."

Still refusing to look up, Billy gave an indifferent shrug.

Hank would not give up, listing, "Professors Monroe and Drake tell me you have been falling asleep in both their classes, and that you have been distracted and listless when you are awake. Your eating habits are irregular, at best, and Logan said you have been avoiding gym class altogether with complaints of various injuries and illnesses... is there anything you'd like to talk to me about?"

Another shrug.

"Anything at all," Beast kindly pressed, trying to meet the boy's eyes, "It is part of my responsibility as your doctor to take care of all aspects of your health. That includes mental and emotional... is this about Jules?"

Billy finally looked up, pouting sadly. "I miss her," He quietly admitted, "Her cousin finally set up a computer for her so we've been talking online a lot during the night and I guess I haven't been getting very much sleep... I dunno, I guess I just realized how much I miss her..."

With a fond smile, the furry doctor proclaimed, "Ah, well, I believe I may have a diagnosis for you, my young friend. You are suffering from an acute case of lovesickness."

Billy's face flushed to a dark pink, his mouth falling open in a staunch denial the boy couldn't quite manage to force out.

"No need to be embarrassed," Beast smiled kindly, "It is perfectly natural for a boy your age to have a crush on a pretty girl. I understand you miss her, but please try not to let it affect your health or your academic career. Limit your instant messenger use to a few hours a night... and if you ever need to talk about anything, I am always here."

"Ok, thanks," Billy mumbled, his face still bright as he hopped down from the table and ran like hell.

Beast chuckled fondly, getting up from his seat to begin tidying up the medlab. He turned around and nearly jumped out of his fur. Three men were standing just behind him, a teenaged blonde and a pair of identical, brown-haired twins who looked to be in their late-twenties or early-thirties.

"Heavens," The doctor gasped, a hand flying to his heart, "You startled me! I didn't hear you come in." The three did not react, simply staring in blank silence. Trying hard not to squirm, Hank inquired, "Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?"

They said nothing.

"Are you new students?" He pressed, beginning to grow very worried, "Did the professor send you down for examinations?"

"De professor ain't here," The twin on the right remarked disinterestedly.

The other was quick give a malicious smirk, adding, "He's been called away."

Beast got chills straight down his spine. The professor conveniently being called away, the Cajun accents, they both pointed to one thing.

"Remy sent you," Dr. McCoy announced flatly.

The twins gave a pair of perfectly timed, perfectly feral grins, beginning to circle like predators. "Bingo," One stated, the other immediately chirping, "Give de doc a prize."

Hank was distinctly uncomfortable now and definitely threatened. He tried to keep his eyes on all three men at once but it wasn't quite working. He wasn't sure who to be more afraid of: the circling pair of twins or the blonde teen who still hadn't said a word.

"Remy don't want you giving pills to his daughter," One of the twins warned, low and threatening without actually uttering any promises of violence or retribution.

Frowning, Beast answered, "I am a doctor. I only want what is best for my patients and would never do anything to put any of them in danger."

"All de same," The other twin added lightly, "Remy don't want you giving pills to his daughter."

Hank's gaze cut suddenly to the silent blonde and their eyes locked. The deep, heady brown burned into him and Hank found that he suddenly couldn't look away. He only vaguely registered his clawed hand reaching out to pick up a small pair of surgical scissors from a nearby instrument tray; he didn't know why he then pressed the fine blades against his own neck.

"_We know where you live_," He heard a strange new voice hiss, sounding like it was coming from inside his own head as he felt the cool steel glide through layers of hair and flesh, "_We've already proven we can get to you anytime we feel like it... If Jules ends up with more pills, we're gonna come back and I guarantee you ain't gonna get off so eas_y... _don't give her no more pills 'cuz I really don't wanna have to hurt you._"

The voice was harsh but almost... pleading...

Beast's eyelids grew heavy, sluggish. They closed...

What felt like a heartbeat later, his eyes flew open again and frantically scanned the empty medlab.

For what?

What was he doing standing there?

Why were there a pair of bloody scissors in his hand?

And why was his neck bleeding?

The furry doctor barely remembered... a voice warning him not to supply anymore pills to Juliette LeBeau but... he couldn't see any of the faces. It was as if they had been blotted out of his mind.

He took a deep, shaking breath and rushed to find the Professor.

xxXxx

Simon came home from New York after only two days. He wasn't speaking to anyone and didn't say a word before storming upstairs and locking himself in his room.

Since Remy wasn't speaking to his nephew, he didn't give the behavior much thought.

Besides, he was still busy sitting at his daughter's bedside, cooing comfortingly in her ear and trying to coax her out of exhaustion and overload. She was doing better but still seemed delirious, once again unable to keep events in her short term memory or hold coherent conversations.

On the fifth day since her breakdown, the girl opened her eyes sometime during the late afternoon and blinked blearily at the hunched form at her bedside. "Papa?" She asked weakly, expression so frail and lost but voice finally lucid.

"Right here, _cher_," Remy softly answered, bending to brush a kiss on the girl's pale forehead, "You feeling any better today?"

"Ya," Jules weakly responded, looking about in confusion. After a few brief moments, her face fell further. "I lost it, didn't I?" She questioned hopelessly, "I got bad again."

Remy gave a solemn nod, taking a few minutes to draw his calloused fingers through his baby's soft black hair. Finally, he took a deep breath and murmured, "We gotta talk, _mon amour_."

"I let you down," Jules blurted out, bottom lip trembling as her glowing red eyes grew heavy with tears, "I'm sorry, Papa. I'll do it better next time. I promise. I know I can do dis. I know I can keep in control."

"Dat ain't it," Remy soothed, "I know better den anyone how hard dis is for you but losing control is gonna happen. It's probably gonna happen a lot. You don't gotta be scared 'cuz I'm always gonna bring you back and we're always gonna keep going. We're gonna beat dis."

Jules sniffled, tears falling.

"We gonna have to go slow," Remy continued, voice soft but scolding, "Real slow. And no more shortcuts... no more pills."

The girl's eyes grew wide.

She didn't remember.

"Papa, I-"

"Save it, _petite_," Remy cut in firmly, unwilling to bend, unwilling to accommodate when it came to the question of his daughter's health, "I told you dis from de beginning and you disobeyed me."

Juliette's eyes dropped shamefully.

Sighing, the thief tenderly petted the girl's soft hair, soothing, "I know dey make it easier. I know, _petite_. Dat's what de doctors gave me at first, too. But dey don't last. You build up a tolerance and you have to take more and more just to go on. And den you're addicted and you can't go a day without 'em. It seems like you can deal at first but den dey start telling you dat you're damaging your body, dat you gotta stop... de physical withdrawals are hell but de mental ones are worse... you understand what I'm saying?"

Unable to look up, Jules merely nodded.

Remy touched her chin and slowly brought her gaze back to his. He offered his baby girl a comforting smile. "De pills make it easier," He advised wisely, "But dey ain't de only answer. It'll be slow. It'll be frustrating. It'll be hard. But you're gonna be alright. I ain't going nowhere and we gonna beat dis together."

The girl began to sob openly, flinging herself into her father's arms.

He held her close, stroking her trembling back and murmuring soft words of love and hope.


End file.
